


Fairy Nests

by MilkTeaMiku



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Domestic Fluff, Fae & Fairies, Fae Bilbo Baggins, Fairies, Family Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 27,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6405751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkTeaMiku/pseuds/MilkTeaMiku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is a fairy. Thorin builds fairy houses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin watches a storm brew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forte - _a thing at which someone excels._

Thorin had always been good with his hands. Crafting things of all shapes and sizes was an ability that ran in every direction of his family – his mother could sew better than anyone else he knew, and his father would bring forth the most beautiful pieces of jewellery from nothing more than a hunk of stone. It was a talent that Thorin had inherited, a little from both of his parents, and he had no doubt that his younger siblings had, too. 

At the ripe age of thirty, Thorin had made a business out of his talents. It had seemed like a good career option after a string of failed desk jobs, and low and behold he now had a steady income and a house he could show off at Christmas time. He lived in a nice area and had a nicely sized backyard that sat next to a large forest, and even if he lived on the edge of town he certainly wasn’t isolated. In either case, he could work from home just as easily as he could from his studios, and that meant he could spend more time with his family, too. His little sister travelled a lot so it was easier for Thorin to look after her two young children than it would be to hire someone else to do the job. He loved his nephews, loved looking after them, and even though they were incredibly mischievous he wouldn’t give them up for the world.

The only drawback of looking after his two nephews, aside from the fact that they liked to eat everything in his pantry, was the fact that they were just so mischievous. If he were being honest, Thorin didn’t know where they got it from. Dis wasn’t such a handful when she was a child, and Thorin knew that her husband was quite a soft-spoken man, even if he did have a playful side. Kili and Fili, however, were just so full of energy that it astounded him. Thorin was sure they would one day develop a talent for something creative just like the rest of family, but for now they were much better at running off with valuable objects and accidentally breaking things. 

Still, having children around seemed to lighten the energy in Thorin’s often lonely house. When he wasn’t working on commissions, he liked to teach them how to make things. Fili was rather adept at putting things together for a five-year old, even if he happened to be the one to have taken it apart in the first place. He liked to make things out of wooden sticks and wooden boards used for making miniature furniture and dioramas. Kili was much more suited to working with fabrics, and although Thorin worried about him using a needle he never once pricked himself. There was a rule in the house that neither one of the children were allowed to stand or run when using sharp or dangerous objects, and even if it was the only one they followed Thorin was glad that they did.

With his nephews around, Thorin had taken to building them things that they could play with. It started with small wooden toys and puzzles, and eventually moved onto dollhouses and what Kili liked to expressively call “fairy houses” but were in fact garden ornaments built for small birds and for decoration. Still, Kili’s little nickname for outdoor decorations got Thorin thinking, and almost without realising it he had started building actual “fairy houses” to keep Fili and Kili occupied. They loved to furnish the houses, and always strategically placed them around the house and the yard alike to attract fairies from the forest. Their whimsical imaginations always made Thorin chuckle. 

Even if he knew things like fairies didn’t exist, it was nice to be involved in the innocent games of children. Kili and Fili whole-heartedly believed that a real fairy would come and use their houses while they weren’t around to see, and it was always lovely to watch them clamour excitedly when furniture or tiny little blankets had been seemingly “used” by fairies during the middle of the night. In reality, Thorin moved them around after the kids had gone to bed, but they didn’t ever need to know that.

One evening, after the day’s work had been done and put away, Thorin sat at his kitchen table and watched a storm brew out through the window. The sky had turned dark with grey and rolling clouds, and Thorin could feel a cool breeze starting to put up as it drifted through the cracks under the backdoor. With a warm cup of tea between his hands and a thick scarf wound around his neck, he was completely content. 

“Uncle Thorin?”

He glanced back, and placed down his tea. “Mmm? What’s wrong, Kili?”

The toddler looked up at him with doe-brown eyes and a small furrow between his brows. He was clutching his blanket – a pretty blue thing made by his mother – and giving Thorin a truly petulant look. “Is it going to storm?”

Thorin opened his arms and picked up his littlest nephew when Kili stepped closer. “I think it is, honey.” He said. “Are you scared?”

Kili thought for a moment before shaking his head with a small sound. “No, Uncle Thorin. But what about the fairy houses?”

Thorin glanced out of the window. He could see one of the houses they’d made perched between the thick branches of a tree that was next to his back fence. Rain was already beginning to sprinkle the ground outside, so he let out a small sigh. “It should be alright.” He reassured. 

“But what if it gets damaged?” Kili whined.

“How about this,” Thorin started, “I’ll check on it first thing in the morning, before I start breakfast. Is that alright?”

“Before Fili and me wake up?”

Thorin nodded. “Before everyone wakes up.” He confirmed.

With only a small frown, Kili nodded. “Alright.” He said around a wide yawn. “Maybe a fairy will use it to stay safe from the storm.”

“Of course they will.” Thorin said. “You made such a beautiful house, what fairy wouldn’t want to use it?”

Kili giggled. “All of them will!”

A smile touched Thorin’s lips, and he pressed a gentle kiss to Kili’s forehead before carefully placing him back on the floor. “Alright, then. Back to bed now.”

He nodded, and held his blanket tighter. “Okay. Goodnight Uncle Thorin.”

“Goodnight, Kili. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Thorin watched with a warm feeling in his chest as Kili toddled back to bed. When sleepy, both of his nephews were much more willing to do as they were told. It was endearing to watch, and always made Dis smile when Thorin told her about it. Even though she was often away, she never stayed away long enough to give her children the chance to miss her. Of course Thorin wished he could see her more, but Dis was always in contact with him, and Thorin himself never had the chance to miss her, either. 

His younger brother he couldn’t say the same for, but that was a completely different story altogether. 

Thorin sighed again, and took his seat at the kitchen table once more. His tea had started to turn lukewarm, but in the chilly winter air steam still faintly billowed off its surface in curling wisps. He drunk more than half of it in a few gulps before he simply let the warmth of the cup seep into his fingers. Absently, he turned his eyes back to the fairy house. He really did hope that it would weather the storm alright.

He was sure it was going to be a big one.


	2. Fortuitous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm is over, and the house survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fortuitous - _happening by chance rather than intention._

Half-way through the night, Thorin woke to the sound of thunder. For a moment he simply laid in bed and allowed himself to drift through a state of half-consciousness that was hazy and warm. The sound of rain against his roof was rhythmic and soothing to listen to, and had it not been for the strange feeling coiling around his head he would have fallen straight back to sleep without incidence. 

That wasn’t the case. His eyes unwillingly stayed open and with a tired sigh he pushed himself upright. There was nothing amiss in his room and he couldn’t hear either of his nephews wandering around up and about, and for a while he was puzzled as to exactly what it was that had woken him. He didn’t exactly want to leave the warmth of his bed so he burrowed under the covers and tried to put his mind at ease. 

He was sure he could sort out whatever it was in the morning.

 

Although he should have predicted it, Thorin hadn’t thought that Kili and Fili would wake up before he did. It wasn’t uncommon for them to do so, but the fact that they might that morning hadn’t even crossed his mind. He hadn’t particularly slept in, but still he was woken up by the loud voices of his nephews.

“Uncle Thorin, Uncle Thorin!” Kili cried as they burst into his bedroom. “There was a fairy in the fairy house!”

Thorin let out a groan as he was abruptly woken. “Pardon…?”

Kili let out an indignant huff as he stood, antsy, by the side of Thorin’s bed. “A fairy, a fairy!” He stressed. “Right, Fee?”

Fili nodded enthusiastically. “We went to check on the fairy house, and there was a fairy.” He said. “Kili trapped it under a box.”

“You did what?” Thorin asked, frowning. He sat up and reached for the jacket he kept beside his bed to keep away the chills before slipping out from beneath the covers. He hated to think that Kili and Fili had trapped some poor animal or insect under a box. They used to chase around the lizards in the garden, and Thorin wouldn’t put it past them to unknowingly capture a dragonfly or butterfly without realising the wrongness of their actions. “Show me, then.”

Fili grabbed onto Thorin’s hand and began to lead him through their house. Thorin was relieved to see that the children had thought to put on shoes and jumpers before venturing outside, but he still didn’t like the thought of them wandering around without supervision. He watched Kili rush off ahead and thought that perhaps it would be best to add another lock to the back door, just in case.

The ground was wet and the grass was covered in early-morning dew when Thorin stepped outside. Chilly air nipped at his nose and fingertips, and he couldn’t help but feel a little disgruntled. A hot cup of coffee usually did the trick in waking him for the day, and he certainly was feeling the effect of being suddenly woken up so early. He could see loose leaves and twigs that had been torn from the trees during the storm, but it didn’t look like any big branches had fallen into or damaged his yard. 

The fairy house was looking a little worse for wear. It was dark with dampness, and he had a feeling that the exterior hadn’t protected the interior as well as he would have liked. It was sitting lopsided in the branch he had fixed it in, and looked precariously close to falling. One of the chairs from the backyard table had been pushed right up against the trunk of the tree, and Thorin assumed that was how Fili and Kili had been able to see into the house in the first place. They’d pulled the front panel open and through it Thorin could see one of the decorative boxes they used to store crayons and pencils turned upside-down on the floor of the house.

“Up there, Uncle Thorin.” Kili insisted. “There’s a fairy, so be careful!”

“Yes, yes.” Thorin said, placating. He carefully pulled the house down from the branch and rested it against the seat of the chair. He crouched to survey the damage, and let out a sigh. He didn’t think it could be fixed, but it could certainly be salvaged. 

“Careful!” Fili asserted. He placed his hands on Thorin’s shoulder to lean over him, eyes fixed on the fairy house. Kili scrambled to do much the same on Thorin’s other side. 

Thorin pursed his lips and mourned his lost coffee. Fili and Kili were far too riled up already for him to have any sort of down time until they were distracted by food or something equally tantalizing. “I’ll be careful.” He reassured. Under their watchful scrutiny he lifted the box and moved it aside, fully expecting to see a dragonfly or some other insect hidden under it.

What he saw, however, was a fairy.

Thorin leaned back, his frown deepening. He could tell that his eyes had gone wide, and he almost believed that he was dreaming again. Despite the disbelief thickening in his chest, he knew there was no other word for the tiny creature slumped right before his eyes. After inhaling deeply, he ever-so-carefully lifted the tiny thing into his palms. “Come on,” He said to the children, “Let’ head back inside.”

 

The fairy was only ten centimetres tall – Thorin measured. He thought that perhaps it was male, but it was so small that it was hard to tell. It had wispy, chestnut coloured locks of hair that curled in gentle, silky waves. The strands were parted to reveal delicately pointed ears. Most prominent of its features, however, were definitely its wings.

Its wings looked impossibly thin. The membrane was just faintly translucent and shimmered like opals when the light caught them right. Thin veins ran through the curved wings to make pretty shapes, and it took Thorin a moment to notice that they were not quite symmetrical. The longer he stared at those tiny wings, the more he started to notice about them. They were not exactly colourless, but his eyes couldn’t decide on what colour they were as it was so faint it seemed that anything he saw through them would affect his vision. There were four wings in total, though the bottom pair were noticeably smaller than the top, and could easily be hidden. 

They were quite beautiful. Thorin wondered how such a thing could exist, and yet he knew it must for he held it in his hands, as clear as day.

However, the fairy was ill. It was cold and left no impression of warmth on his skin, and seemed to tremble as much as one of its size possibly could. One of its larger wings looked uncomfortably bent, and Thorin knew that it must have been damaged during the storm.

He left the fairy in one of the houses he’d built previously. It was perfectly sized, and although it hadn’t been furnished he made do. He warmed up a heat pack, only half way, and left that in the room with the fairy to act as a heater after carefully drying the fairy’s hair with a piece of paper towel. There was a little bed he pulled from a different house with a mattress and quilt built for dolls, but he assumed it would serve the same purpose. He didn’t let the children see the creature again, and instead kept it in the house in his room where Kili and Fili could not go. 

He hoped it would be alright.


	3. Fascinate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin finds a solution to a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fascinate - _attract the strong attention and interest of (someone)._

“What do fairies even eat?” Thorin asked, exasperated. 

“Cake!” Kili declared.

“No, it eats sugar cubes!” Fili argued. “Sugar cubes and flowers.”

“But you can’t eat flowers.” Kili frowned furiously. “Cakes have sugar in them too!”

Fili let out a contemplative hum. “Then they eat sugar cubes, flowers and cake? That must be it!”

Thorin sighed and rubbed at his temples. His nephews, despite their good intentions, were not being at all helpful. He’d already looked up what fairies would eat, but there were so many search results for the word “fairy” that it made his head spin. What was he meant to do when he didn’t know what information to believe, and what was nothing more than make believe? 

Just the thought of the little creature slumbering in his room made him uneasy. Such a tiny thing had been battered by that storm last night, and Thorin did not know how to heal it, let alone what to feed it. He hardly believed it was real, but he knew deep down that if such a magnificent creature where to die then surely the entire forest would mourn it.

“Alright you two,” Thorin murmured, “Run along, it’s time for me to work.”

“But Uncle,” Kili whined, “I want to see the fairy.”

“Me too.” Fili agreed.

Thorin frowned, and gave them a pointed look. With only small, defeated huffs the two children wandered away, talking amongst themselves. Thorin didn’t want to deny them anything, but this wasn’t something he could give them. Even if he didn’t quite understand anything about fairies or the specific fairy currently residing in his bedroom, he knew that children could get a little hands-on, and that that probably wasn’t for the best. 

With a sigh he turned away from his computer and made his way to the kitchen. There was no chance he had any dishes that would be a suitable size for a fairy, let alone anything that would be small enough for it to eat. He knew he had doll-sized plates and cups from a diorama he did a few months ago, and only after he rummaged through all his drawers to find them was he satisfied that perhaps they would be the right size (if only a little big). He prepared a tiny glass of water – it only took a handful of droplets to fill the entire cup to the brim – as well as apples cut into the smallest cubes he could manage. 

His bedroom was frightfully quiet when he entered. The house was right where he left it, comfortably resting on his dresser where just the faintest hints of light were reaching it from the window. He approached quietly, and was almost tempted to hold his breath just to be that little bit quieter when he saw that the fairy was still slumped on the bed where he had left it. He peered closer and was relieved to see that its chest was still moving up and down, and with a subtle exhale he placed down the tiny crockery and left the room. 

He had work to do, and not even a fairy could put a hold on that.

 

Fairies could, however, make him incredibly distracted. It was easy enough keeping his nephews out of the room, but keeping himself out was proving to be the problem. It felt surreal to have the little thing in his house, and he had to keep reminding himself that it was, in fact, very real.

Halfway through the day, after he’d made lunch for Fili and Kili, he went to check on the fairy again. His room felt just as stifled as it had that morning, but when he approached the fairy house he noticed that something was different. 

The fairy had moved.

It now laid on the heat pack, clutching fistfuls of the fabric as it slumbered. Its wings were laid out flat against its back, but its injured one was awkwardly folded, and it looked rather uncomfortable. He noticed that the water and some of the apple pieces had disappeared and it made him feel a little more reassured than before. Apples, then, could be eaten by fairies. He would make sure to remember that. 

After refilling the cup he let the fairy be, faintly wondering when it would awaken.

 

Thorin was fixing a curtain rod into a commission when a thought suddenly struck him. The curtain rod itself was made from a wooden rod used for crafting and was the perfect size for the little house, and it was easy enough to thread a miniature curtain onto it with a little patience. It hung straight and still, and reminded him somewhat of the way his arm had been still in a splint after he’d broken it when he was a child. It got him thinking about the fairy’s damaged wing.

Would a splint be able to straighten it out? The wing membrane seemed impossibly thin and he knew that it did not have bone like an arm or hand. Regardless, once the thought was in his head he could not get rid of it, and he soon began looking around for the right materials. The rods he used for the houses would be far too thick and heavy, but he found that a toothpick with the sharp end neatly cut off would do the job. He wouldn’t dare use tape or plaster against such tiny wings, but he had embroidery thread that would be soft enough to tie the toothpick securely. With everything he needed in hand, he made his way back into the bedroom.

The fairy was as he left it. It didn’t wake when Thorin settled beside the dresser, and did not even stir when he gently reached for its wings. He thought that perhaps a pained expression might have crossed its face when he straightened out the injured one, and he couldn’t help but wince in sympathy. He worked as quickly as he could – he laid the length of the wing against the toothpick, lining the make-shift splint against the top of the membrane where it looked the thickest, before tying it in place with the embroidery thread.

It probably didn’t look the best, but he assumed it would serve its purpose. He released the wing as gently as he could and shook the jitters from his fingers. Those wings had felt like air against his fingertips, and were likely the most delicate things he had ever held. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how something so fragile could possibly be such a vital limb.

He cleaned away the stray threads on his dresser, and as he went to leave the room something compelled him to glance back over his shoulder.

Big, riveted amber eyes were watching him.


	4. Fathom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fathom - _understand (a difficult problem or an enigmatic person) after much thought._

“You’re awake.” Thorin said, astonished. It did not appear that the fairy had enough strength to sit up, but nevertheless its eyes were wide open and focused. 

The fairy seemed to shrink away cautiously at the sound of his voice, though it was unable to move properly with its damaged wing. Its tiny hands tightened in the fabric of the heat pack as it eyed him rivetedly. Thorin wondered if it could speak, and if they shared a language. It hardly seemed like it could have a voice big enough for him to hear, in either case.

Slowly, he bent at the waist so that he was eye-level with the house. He was careful not to get too close, and made sure to think about the words he’d use before he spoke. He didn't want to intimidate the tiny creature. “I don’t think you’re meant to be here.” He said. “But I don’t think you can fly with a wing like that, either.”

The fairy glanced over at its injured wing before his eyes flittered back up to Thorin. It looked frightened, and apprehensive, but made no move to flee. Thorin couldn’t blame it. He wanted to say more, perhaps even to reassure it that he didn’t want to cause it any harm, but even as he watched it, its eyes began to drift shut. It fought its tiredness for a moment, but its head dropped back down and it only frowned furiously at him.

Thorin sighed, and backed away. His presence did nothing to soothe the creature, he knew that, and so for now he left it be. When it eventually gained enough strength back, then maybe he could have a proper conversation with it. If it could speak, that is. There were so many things that he just didn’t know about the fairy that it made him feel completely lost. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that something from fairy tales and make believe could actually exist, let alone the fact that one was currently resting in his house. 

With a shake of his head, he returned to work.

 

“You have to be quiet.” Thorin instructed. “And do not let go of my hands, alright?”

Fili and Kili nodded enthusiastically. Thorin reasonably understood that it was just about impossible to keep them away, as they were children and children could be unbearably persistent. Aside from the fact that his nephews were undeniably curious about the fairy, they were also unwaveringly mischievous, and when they put their minds to something they were very likely to achieve it.

As quietly as he could manage, he led them into his bedroom. It was just about time for them to go to bed so he hoped that most of their energy had been expended during the day, but to his dismay he could feel Kili jittering about excitedly. He was relieved to see that the fairy was asleep once again, and that its injured wing was turned away from view. Nothing about the room had changed.

“It’s so little!” Kili cooed, standing up on his toes to peer into the fairy house. His eyes were wide with curiosity, and he started to reach up a hand before drawing it back with a huff of realisation. At least he was following the rules. “Is the fairy okay, Uncle Thorin?”

“Yes, Kili.” Thorin said gently. He didn’t know if it was quite a true statement, but he sure hoped that it was. The little thing didn't seem any worse for wear than if had been before. “The fairy is resting now, that's all.”

Kili nodded, satisfied, and dropped back down onto his feet. Fili took his turn to look into the house, and only after he was done was Thorin able to finally put them to bed. He was relieved that their presence hadn’t woken the fairy. He didn’t know how it would react to even more humans, let alone children. 

By the time he retired to bed he was tired and drained and incredibly sleepy. Crawling under his mountain of quilts was an incredibly relaxing feeling, but he didn’t stay there for long. A knocking sound quietly filled the room, and had he been only a little bit tireder then perhaps he wouldn’t have noticed the sound at all. As it continued, however, he became increasingly aware of it.

When he glanced over at the fairy house, he was surprised to find that the fairy was awake once again. He looked at it closer, and noticed that the little thing was trying to move furniture around to no avail. Its wings were limp and the splint seemed to be weighing it down, and Thorin grimaced just at the sight of it. “You’re awake again.” He said as he pushed back the covers of the bed.

The fairy startled and almost lost its footing as its wings stiffened. It's reaction to his voice was in its entire body, and just the sight of it reacting so expressively made Thorin want to laugh. Its big eyes peered back at him almost like it expected to be reprimanded.

“Are you moving furniture?” Thorin asked curiously. The fairy’s eyes flickered from Thorin to the furniture and back again, making Thorin chuckle. “Do you want some help?”

The fairy narrowed its eyes, but the wobble in its legs betrayed it. Thorin inched closer and when the fairy didn’t instinctively move away, he made his way over to the dresser. He took a closer look at what the fairy had been doing, and was surprised to find that it wanted to rearrange almost the entire room. It had been set up with furniture similar to how he had furniture in his house, though he supposed that was the problem – fairies probably didn’t have the same furniture, did they? Instead it looked as though the fairy was moving all of the furniture to the corner of the rooms so that it could make a nest around the heat pack right in the middle. 

“Let me see.” Thorin said. He gently took the miniature table and moved it to where one of the chairs had already been pushed. “Here?”

Tentatively, the fairy nodded. 

“This one too?” He asked, picking up the second chair. When he received another nod he moved that one as well, and quietly continued rearranging the room. It wasn’t the type of set up he would have chosen himself, but it was still nice. “Do you want me to warm up the heat pack again?”

The fairy’s eyes jerked towards him, glittering, as if to say _“You can do that?”_ Thorin laughed at that eager look, and reached for the heat pack. It wasn’t a hassle to reheat it in the microwave for thirty seconds, and when he returned it to its place he wasn’t surprised to watch the fairy paw at it until it was in the position it wanted. 

“You can understand me, right?” Thorin asked as he watched the fairy marvel over the heat pack like it was made from gold.

The fairy thought for a moment, before nodding.

“Can you talk?”

The fairy nodded again, but pointedly touched its throat. 

“Oh, you hurt your throat?” Thorin asked. “I see. Is the heat pack warm enough for you?”

The fairy grabbed fistfuls of the fabric and clambered its way into the centre, looking pleased. It didn't answer Thorin, but it's wide-eyed expression was answer enough. Thorin moved the blankets off of the bed and over to the edge of the heat pack for when the heat seeped out of it, and leaned back to watch the little creature make itself comfortable.

"Is the splint on your wing alright?" Thorin questioned. "I know it's not pretty, but its the best I could do. I'm not sure how to help that sort of injury."

The fairy glanced back at its wing, and absently lifted them for a better view. It looked saddened at the sight of the injury, and quickly lowered its wings out of sight. It looked incredibly forlorn, and that pouting expression tugged at Thorin's heart. Weakly, the creature shrugged. 

“I'm sure it will be alright. I'll change the splint in the morning and try to find something to cover up your wing while the splint is on, alright? Something to make it more comfortable." Thorin said. He paused for a moment."What do I call you?” Thorin asked. "My name is Thorin."

The fairy eyed him questioningly, and reached into its pocket. It pulled out a tiny book, one that would only fit onto the tip of Thorin's finger, and held it up for inspection. Although it strained his eyes to read, Thorin could faintly make out English letters indented across the book’s cover.

“Bilbo.” He said, surprised. “Your name is Bilbo.”


	5. Fondness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo quite likes food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fondness - _affection or liking for someone or something._

By the time morning came, it was unbearably bright with sunshine. The chill of winter still stung Thorin’s toes from where they peeked out from beneath the bed covers, and with a disgruntled sound he sent a withering look to his unfortunately open curtains. He was never a morning person, and to be waken up so blindingly was both disorienting and uncomfortable.

The fairy – Bilbo – however, did not seem to share his grumbled sentiment. As Thorin woke properly he could hear it chattering to itself quietly with a voice that was soft and distinctively bell-like. He couldn’t quite make out exactly what it was saying, but he knew it must be speaking. Nothing else in his house would make such an alluring noise, after all. When he sat up to look across at the house curiously, he saw that Bilbo had pushed open the little shutters that faced Thorin’s bedroom window so that the morning sunlight would reach into the fairy house, as well. He – at this point, Thorin assumed that Bilbo was male – had dragged around the furniture again, and there seemed to be an even bigger indentation in the heat pack now. It was truly starting to look more like a nest than a bedroom.

When Bilbo caught sight of Thorin sitting upright and awake, his chattering stopped, but only for a moment before he went back to doing what he was. Thorin watched him for a moment, before sighing sleepily. He hadn’t thought Bilbo would already be so comfortable with the situation, but perhaps he could sense that Thorin harboured no ill will towards him. Either way it wouldn’t do Thorin any good to mull over it, so he simply carried on with his morning. By the time he had dressed and made himself as presentable as he could before his morning coffee, it seemed like Bilbo had finally gotten everything into the position he wanted. 

The table and chairs were now by the widest windows facing the sunshine. He sat as comfortably in one of the chairs as he could with his wings, and absently Thorin wondered how the chairs Bilbo was used to looked. Surely they’d have to provide space for a fairy’s wings, but support for one’s back was also needed. It was something to think about, if nothing else. 

“Are you hungry?” He asked as he pulled on a jacket to keep the cold away. His voice caught Bilbo’s attention, who turned his big eyes back at him. “I’m not sure what you eat, but I’m sure I can find something. If need be, there are still apples in the fruit bowl.”

Bilbo made a contemplative face, before standing. He said something, but Thorin was too far to hear. Bilbo wandered across the fairy house before carefully stepping down onto the dresser. He fluttered his wings experimentally and huffed when his injured one didn’t respond well enough. In a rather determined fashion he began to walk along the dresser, and it was only then that Thorin realised exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, would you like to come?” He asked.

Bilbo nodded, and put his hands on his hips as he reached the edge of the dresser. It was quite a long fall down to the closest ledge, and Bilbo seemed to seriously consider it before he shook his head and turned to face Thorin expectantly. Wordlessly Thorin raised a brow, but he held out a hand regardless.

For a moment Bilbo only prodded tentatively at Thorin’s fingers. His tiny hands were cold, and his palm was so small that it fit neatly over one of Thorin’s fingertips. When Bilbo seemed confident enough in Thorin’s strength he tentatively stepped onto Thorin’s fingers and walked across to his palm. He wobbled on his feet and almost stumbled, but with his arms outstretched he managed to find his balance again. Thorin hardly felt his weight, but Bilbo still sent him a weary glance as if he could possibly be encumbering Thorin. 

“Let’s go, then.” Thorin said with a small nod to himself. He made a conscious effort to keep his hand as still as possible as he began to walk. “I must warn you, my nephews will be up and about soon enough. You may need to hide until they’re preoccupied. Children can be quite… Rowdy, at times.”

Bilbo nodded in agreement, but he seemed distracted by the sudden sight of Thorin’s home. His expression was one of amazement, though Thorin could understand why he probably looked as he did. He doubted Bilbo had ever been out of the forest, and everything in Thorin’s home must be so big compared to what he was used to. When they reached the kitchen, Thorin carefully set him down on the benchtop beside the fruit bowl before flicking on the kettle. 

“So I understand you eat fruit, but what else do you like?” Thorin wondered aloud. He rifled through the cupboards for a moment, humming contemplatively. He eventually settled on bringing out the honey he’d brought from a local farm as well as a loaf of bread to see if Bilbo would prefer some variety (and to make toast for the children, of course). “Is this alright?”

Bilbo looked quite eager as Thorin placed the jar of honey down and almost tripped over his own feet as he rushed over to get a closer look. It certainly made Thorin laugh, but Bilbo paid no attention to him. He was standing on his toes to reach for the lid of the jar, and although he tried his hardest it was far too tight for him to budge on his own.

“Alright, alright.” Thorin said as he took the jar. “I take it that you like honey, then? Would you like banana with that, too? You can’t just eat honey.”

The look Bilbo gave him said that he could very well just eat honey if it he could get the jar open, but alas he was unable to. Instead Thorin gave him a doll-size teacup filled with droplets of water, and busied himself with breakfast. While the bread toasted in the toaster he sliced up delicate slices of banana and cut them down to the smallest size he could manage without completely mashing them. He left them on the edge of a plate before dipping the tip of a teaspoon into the honey jar and resting that on the plate, too. 

“There you go.” He said as he slid the plate towards Bilbo, who had taken a cosy seat on the top of an apple before abruptly sliding off it at the sight of his meal. It was amusing to watch Bilbo reach for the teaspoon without hesitance. It was just shy of being too big for him to lift, and while he was probably taller than it, it was still amusing to see the size difference. Still, despite the large cutlery he managed to eat quite daintily, and so Thorin left him be. 

The air in the kitchen felt different when there was someone else in it other than Thorin or the children, but it wasn’t an unpleasant thing. Every now and then he’d hear Bilbo chatter something at him and although he couldn’t quite make out what it was, it still made him smile. 

“I’ll change the splint today, too.” Thorin said as he absently took a few sips of his steaming coffee. “I’m sure there’s a way I can make it more comfortable.”

Distractedly, Bilbo nodded. He was too intently focused on distributing the honey over the tiny bits of banana to notice that Thorin was watching him. It was entertaining to watch the way Bilbo devoured the tiny bites of food, mostly because his eyes seemed to glitter so eagerly at the taste of honey. It was a favourite of his, obviously, and Thorin made sure to tuck that little titbit of information away for later.

Bilbo was turning out to be quite the amusing creature.


	6. Finesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is an older injury on Bilbo's back, but it doesn't pain him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finesse - _impressive delicacy and skill._

Modifying the splint on Bilbo’s wing proved to be more of a challenge than keeping him from Kili and Fili was. When it came to hiding the little fairy, lifting him up onto the fridge or into the cupboards that the children couldn’t reach did the trick easily enough. Fixing a splint on such a small, delicate limb, however, could not be achieved so readily.

For what it was worth, Bilbo was endlessly patient. He sat with his back to Thorin, wings dutifully outstretched as far as he could manage, while Thorin took proper measurements of how long and wide the wings were. He knew they must be stronger than they looked as Bilbo could clearly use them to get around, but the membrane was so thin that he guessed it could get torn or damaged if too much pressure was applied. He’d always refrained from peering too closely at Bilbo’s wings as it certainly didn’t feel polite, but now that he had permission he was sating his curiosity. It was only with his closer inspection of the wings, however, that he noticed something that he would have otherwise never caught sight of.

At the place where Bilbo’s wings met his back, the skin was scarred. At the joining point, what looked like ornate shards of metal had been melded to his skin. Thorin’s eyes widened at the sight of it, and he gently pushed Bilbo’s wings further apart to get a better look. “Bilbo, what’s wrong with your wings?” He asked. 

Bilbo’s wings flickered as he glanced back at Thorin with those big eyes of his. He chattered something but it wasn’t anything legible, and he questioningly gestured to the base of his wings. At Thorin’s nod of confirmation, he made a thoughtful expression before standing. He was saying something, no doubt explaining what the metal was, but at Thorin’s confused expression he simply rocked his arms as though he was holding a child.

“It happened when you were a baby?” Thorin asked, stricken. “It looks painful. You have scars…”

Bilbo nodded. His hands were gesturing as he explained, but he seemed frustrated that Thorin was unable to make out what he was saying. His wings flicked back, and he took a moment to glance around before he trudged his way over to the vase of flowers Thorin kept on his work desk. He stretched up as far as he could and plucked one of the tiny flowers that hung in clusters over the edge of the vase before returning to Thorin. He held it up for Thorin to see, before making a show of taking one of the petals in his fingers and pulling it straight from the stem. 

Thorin frowned, and looked a little closer. 

Bilbo held up the petal, and gestured to his wings.

“Oh, is it to prevent your wings from being damaged?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo nodded, waving around the petal in triumph. He twisted around, chasing the end of his uninjured wing for a moment, before he grabbed onto it and pulled around to show where the metal fused the wing to his back. He held up the petal in front of it, looking contemplative, before he pulled the petal away again.

Thorin hummed at the careless actions, and reached a fingertip forwards to gently prod at the joint of Bilbo’s wings. He could feel the metal, but it was nothing more than a little cold prick on the tip of his finger. “Does it still hurt?” He asked.

Bilbo let out a little cooing noise as he let Thorin scratch at his back gently. He shook his head, and absently placed the flower atop his head. While he was distracted by the task of keeping it balanced where it was, Thorin went back to fixing his wing splint. 

Like before, he used a toothpick with the sharp tip cut off to act as the main support. He made sure to sand it down as much as he could before laying it atop of Bilbo’s wing over a small piece of tissue he split in half to lessen the weight. He secured it with embroidery thread. “This should be lighter, now.” He said. “And more comfortable. How does it feel?”

A thoughtful sound came from Bilbo, and he glanced around. Experimentally, he lifted his wings, and chattered happily when his wing was easier to lift. 

Thorin chuckled at Bilbo’s energetic behaviour, and leaned back in his chair. “I’m glad.” He said. “Your wing will heal, right?”

Bilbo nodded, and stretched his arms above his head leisurely. His wings tremored with the effort, and the flower slid off of his head. 

“If you’re tired,” Thorin said, “You can rest in one of the houses here.”

Bilbo glanced around the workshop. There were houses and other objects laying around in various states of repair and build, and after a moment he pointed at a half-built fairy house by the window. Thorin nodded, and held out his hand for Bilbo to carefully walk across. Thorin took him to the house, where he curiously stepped down and began to explore. There was a staircase that led up to the second level where a bed with sheets was beside the window. Bilbo seemed to deem the positioning good enough for a nap, and with another stretch he finally crawled in under the covers.

He fussed about for quite a few moments, which made Thorin smile, amused. Eventually Bilbo had bundled up all the blankets to make a nest around himself, and just like that he was comfortable. He fell asleep ridiculously easy with the sun bearing down on his back, and made a rather cute expression as he went slack against his mountain of blankets.

Thorin watched him for a moment, before returning to work. He thought that it was nice to have a companion, even one as small as Bilbo. He wondered how long it would take for Bilbo’s wing to heal, and what he would do then. Realistically, he knew he wouldn’t do anything. Bilbo was free to leave whenever he wished, and Thorin wouldn’t dare stop him from doing so.

Still, it wasn’t a line of thought he wanted to linger on, and so he didn’t.


	7. Floret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fairies have magic, and Thorin only just realised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Floret - _a small flower._

The changes that occurred in Thorin’s home were subtle, at first. He didn’t notice them at all, but eventually they started to catch his attention more and more frequently.

It started with the flowers. Thorin had never been the most talented when it came to keeping a garden alive – building the garden was something he could easily manage, but maintaining any semblance of plant life was a bit of a challenge. Subsequently, his plants never lasted as long as he thought they could of, and they never bloomed as brightly as their counterparts in other peoples’ gardens frequently did. Now, however, his plants were completely different. The change was most noticeable in the ones he kept indoors – they were brighter and fuller, like someone had breathed life back into them more so than Thorin ever could.

He had a feeling that their sudden change was entirely due to Bilbo.

It wasn’t only the flowers, either. The entire house seemed to become lighter, like any stifling feelings had been eradicated and now air was free to flow through every crook and cranny. Thorin enjoyed the way he breathed easier, and the way his nephews seemed more carefree. The two of them hadn’t exactly forgotten about Bilbo, but they seemed to understand the extent of his injury a little more. Thorin had noticed that they became quite cautious around Bilbo, and it made him smile a little. 

Thorin had never considered the idea that perhaps Bilbo had something akin to magic. In stories and tales it was something that was often linked to fairies, but Thorin had found that no description of the little creatures had ever matched up to exactly what Bilbo actually was. Every moment he spent with Bilbo he discovered something different, something he hadn’t known before, and it was as exciting as it was fascinating. And what he found was that Bilbo liked flowers, even more than he liked honey. 

The little fairy seemed to thrive when Thorin brought more plants into the house. Thorin found the flowers with the smallest stems he could and left them by Bilbo’s fairy house so that he could admire them as much as he liked, which he did very often. Many times Thorin would hear Bilbo chattering away merrily, but it wasn’t to himself, or even to Thorin. No, it was to the flowers. Bilbo’s voice seemed to make them grow and thrive, and it was a lovely thing to experience. The only conceivable way Thorin could explain Bilbo’s strange effect on things was magic.

It made sense, in the scheme of things. If tiny creatures with tiny wings could exist, then why couldn’t magic? Thorin was starting to think that just about everything could exist.

During one late afternoon, after Thorin had put away all his work and the children had just been tucked into their beds, he asked Bilbo about it – about magic. The concept of it was strange for Bilbo to understand because if he had it, then he’d always had it, and suddenly explaining something that would see so normal was a difficult thing to do. After he realised what Thorin was asking about, however, it all seemed to click into place.

Bilbo babbled enthusiastically as he undoubtedly explained it all. Thorin simply watched him, amused, and wondered when he’d finally be able to understand Bilbo. His voice was far too quiet as he was, but it was still lovely to listen to, even if Thorin couldn’t quite make out what it was he was saying.

“So I take it that you do have magic, then.” Thorin stated.

Bilbo nodded, eyes glittering. He pointed wildly at the flowers lined up in neat potted rows along the porch where they sat, and threw his arms up in a wide gesture.

“Oh?” Thorin mused. “You can make them grow?”

Again, Bilbo nodded. His uninjured wings were fluttering in excitement, and every now and then his injured one would twitch in accordance. It was a sign of improvement, if nothing else.

“You seem to like the flowers very much.” Thorin remarked. “Do all fairies like flowers as much as you do?”

Bilbo shook his head, chattering again. He wandered over to Thorin’s knee and scrambled his way up the fabric of Thorin’s pants to sit atop it where Thorin could see him easier. Thorin reached over to one of the potted plants to pluck a flower from its stem before handing it to Bilbo, who grinned widely and hugged the floret close. He waved Thorin closer, and only once he had Thorin’s full attention did he turn the flower over so that Thorin could see its torn stem. He wrapped its fingers around it, and almost instantly a warm, glittering light burst through the gaps between his fingers.

Before Thorin’s eyes, the stem began to regrow. A lively, curled leaf burst forth from the stem and seemed to glitter before it settled in its place and Bilbo drew his hand away. Thorin stared at the rejuvenated flower with wide, awe-struck eyes. He could hardly believe that a person as little and dainty as Bilbo could create something so magnificent.

“That’s amazing.” Thorin said. He prodded at the flower gently, but Bilbo cooed for his attention instead, so he rubbed his fingertip under Bilbo’s chin obligingly. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Bilbo just grinned again, and hugged the flower tightly. He looked like he was rather enjoying himself, and it made Thorin smile. It was a look that was quite different to the first cautious glances Bilbo had pinned him with. It seemed like Bilbo trusted him now – trusted Thorin not to harm him. Perhaps that was why he was so comfortable being in Thorin’s house. Did he not wish to return to his home as soon as possible?

Perhaps Bilbo was just as curious about Thorin as Thorin was about Bilbo. It didn’t seem like such a strange idea, not when Bilbo fawned and fussed over all of the things Thorin showed him. It was nice to think about.


	8. Favour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin learns more about magic and Bilbo finds the crayons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Favour - _approval, support, or liking for someone or something._

Eventually, Bilbo got into the colouring supplies. As pencils stood taller than him and crayons left him with waxy smudges on his skin, it was pretty easy to figure out what he’d been up to. Thorin knew that Bilbo had watched Kili and Fili colour during the morning one day from his hiding place amongst the curtains. Thorin had been busy working so he hadn’t quite noticed Bilbo’s fascination with the colours, but now that he thought about it he supposed that fairies wouldn’t have things like crayons or coloured lead.

While the children attended school and preschool, Thorin wasn’t so afraid to leave Bilbo to his own devices. He conveniently left things around the house that made it easier for Bilbo to get around, and he never went too long without checking on him if they weren’t in the same room. That was why, when he did go to check on Bilbo, he was rather amused to find that Bilbo was entertaining himself with the children’s crayons. He’d spread blank paper all over the coffee table where Kili and Fili had left their supplies, and had somehow managed to heave up one of the orange crayons into his grip.

For a moment, Thorin just watched him from the doorway. Bilbo walked backwards, dragging the tip of the crayon along the paper with him. At unpredictable intervals he would suddenly spin or change direction, and it was so amusing to watch that Thorin had to consciously hold back a laugh. After a moment Bilbo suddenly stopped and took several steps back to survey his work. He made one last contemplative stroke before setting the crayon down with a rather satisfied chatter to himself.

“What are you doing?” Thorin asked curiously as he wandered over. 

Bilbo’s wings flicked up at the sound of his voice, and he eagerly turned his big, amber eyes on Thorin. With another excited chatter he swept his arm out towards all the papers he’d drawn across, and as Thorin peered across the table he realised that Bilbo had drawn flowers. They were not the best and were a little wonky in some places, but considering the bulkiness of the crayon in regards to Bilbo’s size he thought that the drawing was exceptionally delightful. 

“I see you’ve found the crayons, then.” Thorin chuckled. He absently picked one up, looking at it closely. “Kili and Fili tend to snap the normal sized ones too easily so I buy the thicker ones, but they seem a little heavy for you.”

Bilbo shook his head and daringly placed his hands on his hips.

Thorin grinned at him. “I’m going to make lunch now.” He said. “Any requests?”

Bilbo’s eyes widened, and he spun back around to heave up the crayon again. He shuffled around the papers with one of his tiny feet before he found a blank sheet and began to frantically drag the crayon across it. Thorin couldn’t see what he’d written until Bilbo stepped back to eagerly show him what he’d done, but once he moved out of the way Thorin could see that he’d written a word.

_Honey!_

 

“The kids seem to be having a lot of fun, recently.”

“Do they?” Thorin asked. “School just started up again.”

“I know.” Dis laughed quietly. “Have you been reading them stories recently, Thorin? Why, they’re quite taken with the idea of fairies!”

Thorin glanced across the room, where Kili and Fili were clamouring around Bilbo’s fairy house. Bilbo was hidden on the top level out of reach, with his head peeking out from behind a doorway to watch as the children put new furniture in the room. “Is that so?”

“It is!” Dis exclaimed cheerfully. “They’re developing quite the imaginations while they stay with you. Is it because of the things you build?”

“Perhaps.” Thorin chuckled as he shot another glance over at the fairy house. Bilbo had taken to leaning further out of the house to get a better look at the children, and he could tell that his nephews had spotted Bilbo but they were doing their best not to let Bilbo realise they’d spotted him. Somehow, Bilbo didn’t even notice. “How has work been?”

 

“What else can your magic do?” Thorin asked as he worked on setting tiny gems into a gold band. 

Bilbo was amusing himself with making flowers grow all over the windowsill. One after another he goaded them into growing and blooming until there were so many that for minutes on end Bilbo disappeared into them. At the sound of Thorin’s voice, however, he poked his head back out and tumbled into view, shaking leaves and petals from his clothes and hair.

He wandered over, and picked up the short pencil Thorin kept on his desk. There was paper for Bilbo to write on, too, but to answer Thorin’s question he seemed to want to draw instead. It took him a moment to finish and he seemed to rather enjoy whatever he was doing.

When he proudly revealed his work, however, Thorin had quite a lot to take in. There were flowers drawn in various states of growing, and even a drawing of a butterfly safely emerging from its cocoon. There were little drawings of ripe fruit and what looked like bandages and wounds that had been healed. It seemed like the uses for magic were endless, but Thorin noticed one in particular.

Bilbo had drawn himself, and next to him was an arrow that pointed to a bigger version. “You can change your size?” He asked, surprised.

Bilbo grinned, and nodded. He chattered and threw his arms up, smiling broadly, and his wings seemed to flutter in excitement. He pointed at Thorin and then back at himself.

“You can become human-sized?” Thorin asked. “That must use a lot of magic.”

The little fairy nodded, looking rueful. He turned back to the paper to write something. _Have to be careful._

“With magic?”

Bilbo nodded. 

“I see.” Thorin hummed. “How is your wing going? Does the splint need to be changed again?”

Bilbo glanced over his shoulder, and fluttered his wings experimentally. The injured one seemed to respond much better now that it had had time to heal, and after a moment Bilbo shook his head. The wing was fine for now, it seemed. Thorin didn’t think it would need much longer to heal, and then Bilbo would be able to leave. It was a thought that made Thorin unexpectedly sad because it was something he didn’t know how to feel about. He was glad Bilbo’s wing would be healed, but he certainly would miss his company.

Either way, it wasn’t as though Bilbo was leaving right that moment. No, Bilbo was sneakily trying to creep closer to the tiny gems Thorin had been setting into the band like he could possibly squirrel one away into his pocket. Thorin still had time to enjoy his company, and that was exactly what he would do.


	9. Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's wing starts to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friend - _a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard._

Thorin woke to a strange feeling brushing across his face. At first it tickled and he thought that perhaps his bedsheets had risen up too high and were tickling his face, or that a piece of fluff had somehow managed to make it up to his pillow. When he started to wake up properly, however, he found that it was neither of those things.

A quiet chattering soon filled the room, and the feathery touches against his skin persisted. When it became too much to ignore he opened his eyes and groaned as light unexpectedly flooded them. He found that it wasn’t the sheets or a piece of fluff that had woken him up, but rather it was Bilbo.

“You’re flying!” Thorin said. His voice was roughened by sleep but the surprise in it was clear.

Bilbo let out a satisfied chatter, and touched Thorin’s face again. Thorin could feel Bilbo’s little hands on his cheeks, and the soft beating of Bilbo’s wings had been the thing to wake him – they fluttered through the air faster than Thorin could see but it was a gentle movement, one that held Bilbo steady and upright. 

“Alright, alright, I’m awake.” Thorin said as Bilbo chattered at him again. He sat up and obligingly held out his hands for Bilbo to drop down into. “Does flying tire you?” He asked.

Bilbo glanced over at his injured wing. He wasn’t wearing his splint, but considering how it had been it seemed to have healed remarkably well. Soon he would likely be able to fly without any problems. He mumbled something to himself, and fluttered his wings again, but he was unable hide his wince.

“Still not fully healed, then?” Thorin sighed. “I’m glad to see can move around a little now. I’ve never seen you fly before!”

A burst of laughter came from Bilbo. It was a sound that Thorin had come to recognise, and was easy to pick out amongst all of the chiming noises Bilbo tended to make. Of course, Bilbo’s shoulders tended to shake when he laughed, which was always a clear giveaway, though Thorin doubted Bilbo knew he had such an obvious tell.

“Shall we go have breakfast, then?”

 

Kili watched Thorin with wide, curious eyes. He didn’t have preschool that day, and without Fili around he often struggled to entertain himself. Generally Thorin would keep him occupied as best as he could until it was time for him to pick Fili up from school, but today seemed different. 

“Uncle Thorin, can I stay in here with you?”

Thorin glanced down at his youngest nephew, who had a frown on his face and a hand clenched in the fabric of Thorin’s pants. “Of course, dear.” He said, eyebrows raised. “Are you alright?”

Kili’s frown deepened, and he insistently tugged on Thorin’s pants. Only when Thorin lifted him up into his lap did Kili seem a little more at ease. “I had a bad dream.” He mumbled.

“Is that so?” Thorin murmured, more to himself than to Kili. “What about?”

“Mama didn’t come back.” Kili whispered. “And you were sad, Uncle. You didn’t want to play anymore.”

Thorin pressed a comforting kiss to Kili’s forehead. “You needn’t worry about your mother, Kili.” He said comfortingly. “She’ll always come back, no matter what. Even if she travels a lot, this is her home, and she loves us all very dearly. You believe me, don’t you?”

Kili nodded, and grabbed fistfuls of Thorin’s jacket as he rested his head under Thorin’s chin. “I wanna play more.” He mumbled.

Thorin ran his fingers through Kili’s hair gently. “We’ll play more, then.” He said. “Whatever you wish for, Kili, I will do my best to grant it.”

“Are you magic, Uncle?” Kili asked, peering up at him inquisitively. “Like Bilbo?”

He chuckled, and shook his head. “No, Kili. I just love you very much.”

“I love you too, Uncle.”

Kili fell asleep like that, and eventually Thorin went back to work. He didn’t have much to do that day as he’d already completed and mailed out his commissions, so it was nice to relax with Kili for a little while. Eventually Bilbo wandered into the room, using tables and chairs to flutter around for short distances. He couldn’t fly for more than a handful of moments with his sore wing, but it was good exercise for him to move around so much. 

Bilbo sent a questioning look to Kili as Thorin carefully helped him up onto the desk. 

“He’s tired.” Thorin said quietly. “He had a nightmare. I think he misses his Mother more than usual this time.”

Bilbo’s eyebrows pulled up in concern, and he gently fluttered over to rest on Kili’s shoulder. He peered at Kili’s face closely, and gently pet his hair. His worry made Thorin smile. For such a little creature he had quite a big heart. After Bilbo seemed satisfied that Kili was sleeping peacefully, he dropped back down onto the desk and picked up a pencil. He was writing something, Thorin realised, and after a moment Bilbo stepped back to reveal the paper.

_Lonely?_

Thorin’s eyes widened. “Who? Kili? Perhaps…” He trailed off as Bilbo shook his head and turned back to the paper. He dragged the pencil across its surface for several moments, and anxiously Thorin shifted his grip on his slumbering nephew. When Bilbo stepped back this time, it was to reveal a drawing.

He’d drawn a crude image of Kili, and of Fili, and then of Thorin. It looked like a child’s drawing, but it was all Bilbo could manage with such a large utensil. Regardless, the image made Thorin’s heart thump.

“All of us?” He asked quietly.

Bilbo watched him closely, and shrugged a shoulder.

“I… I guess we are, sometimes.” Thorin finally said. The words seemed to get stuck in his throat, and he hastily swallowed them down. “It can hard not to feel lonely.”

Bilbo glanced away, and picked up the pencil again. He drew something else, before turning to Thorin again. He offered Thorin a weak smile and another half-hearted shrug, before putting the pencil down.

Next to Thorin, he’d drawn a fairy.


	10. Fancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo really likes honey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fancy - _feel a desire or liking for._

“Bilbo, what are you doing?”

A tiny head burst out of the mountain of clothes currently piled up on the floor of the fairy house. Thorin had seen the children sneakily carry them in before they left for school, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. Now, however, he was curious – Bilbo hadn’t bothered him for honey all morning which in itself was a strange thing, and he hadn’t come out to flutter around Thorin’s head as he now often did while Thorin made his morning coffee. 

The sight before him was what he was met with when he went looking for the little fairy. “Bilbo?”

The tiny creature only grinned at him and began to wiggle out of the pile of clothes. Since he’d arrived at Thorin’s house he’d more or less worn the same thing as his clothing had never seemed to dirty, but it seemed that he’d finally changed. Now he proudly stood up to show off the clothing he’d picked out from what Kili and Fili had brought him. 

He’d chosen a tiny green sweater to wear over a collared shirt and a pair of brown pants that only reached the top of his ankles. They looked tight enough to sit on Bilbo’s hips just fine, but he’d someone managed to find a tiny pair of suspenders to wear, too. Thorin was surprised to see that the clothes fit so well considering they hadn’t had Bilbo’s size in mind when they’d been made.

“Oh?” Thorin mused. “Don’t you look quite stylish.”

Bilbo chattered happily at the praise and fluttered over to rest on Thorin’s outstretched hand. He seemed rather cheerful this morning, but Thorin guessed it had nothing to do with his healing wing. When Thorin carried him into the kitchen to prepare their breakfast, he had Bilbo sit on the countertop (on a tea towel, because the bench was too cold for Bilbo’s legs) so that he could check on how much progress Bilbo’s wings had made.

They seemed to have healed remarkably well, considering how bad the injured one had been. Bilbo’s injured wing looked almost like his uninjured one, and the painful-looking crease had all but straightened out. Bilbo didn’t wince nearly half as much as he once had when he started to fly again, and he could make it across farther distances without walking now. Thorin was glad to see that Bilbo was happier now that he could fly again. 

“How does it feel now, Bilbo?” Thorin asked. He gently prodded at Bilbo’s wings with his fingertips, moving them further and further out to stretch the joints. “Better?”

Bilbo nodded and shot Thorin another grin over his shoulder. 

Thorin chuckled. “I’m glad.” He said. “Do you want honey with your breakfast, as usual?”

Bilbo let out an enthusiastic cheer and flew straight over to the cupboard where Thorin kept the honey. It made Thorin laugh, and he obligingly retrieved the jar. Bilbo liked to try and unscrew the jar every morning when he thought Thorin wasn’t looking, though he had yet to be successful in actually getting it open. 

This morning, however, seemed to be the day Bilbo finally got it. Thorin was just about finished making breakfast when he heard the tell-tale sound of the jar lid popping open, accompanied by a triumphant cry from Bilbo. “Did you finally get it, Bilbo? Ah, don’t do that!” Thorin cried as he turned around to spot Bilbo leaning dangerously far over the open jar. 

The fairy already had his little hand buried in the honey, like he’d done it without thinking at all. His amber eyes twinkled with a strange sort of deviousness as he wobbled on the edge of the jar. 

Thorin reached over and deftly plucked him from the jar, ignoring Bilbo’s whine of protest as he instead settled Bilbo on his palm. “If you’re not careful, you’ll go swimming in it.” He said, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve made a mess already.”

Bilbo laughed, and simply licked the honey off of his fingers. Thorin shook his head with a gentle sigh and set Bilbo back down on his tea towel again. Such a strange little creature Bilbo was. As Thorin served them both breakfast he couldn’t help but wonder just why Bilbo liked honey so much. Considering how in tune with nature he was, Thorin had never thought that perhaps fairies and insects didn’t get along. Bees would be awfully frightened if they were knee-height after all. 

It certainly was strange to think about.

 

One night, Thorin woke to a strange sound. His mind felt unexpectedly fuzzy and he couldn’t quite open his eyes. It was still dark, and he thought that maybe he was dreaming. He couldn’t figure out what it was that had woken him and he almost drifted completely back to sleep, but then the quiet sounds started up again. 

They were quiet chattering noises. He slowly turned his head towards the window, and just faintly he saw a tiny silhouette. Had he left the window open a crack? He must have. It took him a moment to recognise that it was Bilbo standing by the window, but it wasn’t just Bilbo. Standing on the other side of the window – hardly daring to step even a single foot in – was another fairy. 

Bilbo was taking to the other fairy, it seemed. Thorin tried to listen to their voices closer, but he was so tried that the little chiming noises made less sense than usual. He frowned, and tiredly tried to lift his head. “B-Bilbo…?”

The fairies’ wings jerked up at the sound of Thorin’s voice, and after another heated moment of chattering, the second fairy left. Bilbo watched him leave, and his wings lowered forlornly. He fluttered over to Thorin’s bed slowly, and rested on Thorin’s pillow. He looked sad, and Thorin felt his brow crease with worry.

“Are you alright?” He asked. He lifted a hand, and Bilbo immediately latched onto his index finger. Thorin rubbed Bilbo’s cheek gently, and watched Bilbo lean into the touch to hide his face. “Don’t be sad.” He whispered. “You’re not lonely anymore, are you?”

Bilbo shook his head, and held on tighter.

Thorin thought that he might have been shaking.


	11. Foster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic is a strange but wonderful thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foster - _encourage the development of (something, especially something desirable)._

It was an overcast day when Thorin finished his work early. It was rare that he got everything done, but the rain was easy and rhythmic to work to, and Bilbo seemed content to hide amongst the flowers he’d prompted into bloom so that he could rest. The storm seemed to make him uneasy, though Thorin couldn’t fault him for it. Storms must make such tiny fairies quite worried, especially if they lived in the forest.

When he’d done, he sat back from his desk and stretched. His shoulders ached from being hunched over working on the commissioned jewellery he had, but he was glad that the pieces were finished. He glanced over at the window as he took a moment to rest. Unlike Bilbo, he wasn’t uneasy during storms – unless they were unreasonably big, of course. He was worried for any works he had outside, but he didn’t think this storm would be as big as the one that had brought Bilbo here. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin said gently, “Are you hungry?”

The thick clusters of purple flowers rustled as Bilbo’s head peeked out from amongst their petals. He met Thorin’s eyes and shook his head before worming his way out onto the desk. He stretched, almost enough for him to topple over, and wandered over to slump against Thorin’s hand. He chattered sleepily, and peered up at Thorin imploringly.

Thorin obligingly pet his hair. “You seem quite tired today.” He observed. 

Bilbo hummed an answer and leaned into Thorin’s touch. He still looked sleepy.

“Is it the rain?” Thorin asked. He rubbed his finger over Bilbo’s head and smiled at the wide yawn Bilbo gave him with a nod. “You’re just like a flower that hadn’t blossomed for the day.” 

Bilbo simply huffed at him, and chattered something. His wings fluttered and after a moment he lifted himself up, tugging Thorin along too. Thorin laughed at his insistence, and stood. Bilbo hardly seemed to want to fly, and instead he made himself comfortable in Thorin’s palm. Bilbo hadn’t particularly used any magic today, other than to bring the flowers into blossom of course, so Thorin doubted it was overuse of magic that had caused his tiredness. 

Perhaps Bilbo hadn’t slept well last night.

 

One day, after a mailing agent had been by to pick up all of Thorin’s finished commissions, Thorin checked the calendar. He was quite surprised to find that Bilbo had already been at his home for a month. The time sure had flown by fast, but he rationalised that he did know Bilbo quite well now, in the way that only time could provide.

He sighed as he watched the mailman leave. He was always filled with a strange feeling when his work left his home. He always put so much effort into the things he made, and he got a little attached to the pieces, though he was always filled with pride when his received positive feedback from a client that had received their item.

When he returned to the kitchen, he expected to find Bilbo trying to crack open the honey jar again. Thorin had already given him some with his lunch, but the fairy could never seem to get enough of it. However, when he returned, it was not the little fairy he had come to known that greeted him. No, it was a much bigger fairy, one that still glittered with magic and sat peacefully at his kitchen bench with the jar wide open and a spoon stuck in his mouth.

“B-Bilbo,” Thorin started, eyes wide with surprise. “What did…?”

Bilbo startled at the sound of his voice, and turned his head to glance at Thorin. He should have looked ridiculous with his big amber eyes widened and with a spoon hanging from his mouth, but he just looked charming. He gave Thorin a satisfied grin as his wings fluttered – and they were so big now, big enough that Thorin could see every tiny detail and fleck of colour in the thin membrane with ease. He was clearly shorter than Thorin, but he was definitely human sized. 

The fairy just grinned at him. He went to speak but his voice hadn’t adjusted to his new size and he could only offer a small smile in apology. Without hesitance he placed down his spoon and eagerly flung himself at Thorin as though he’d forgotten he could no longer fit into Thorin’s palm, and just like that they embraced for the first time.

 

Human-sized Bilbo wasn’t much different from the ten-centimetre fairy that Thorin had come to know. Of course, being the size of a human meant Bilbo couldn’t fit into his fairy house, and now he could get into the honey jar much easier. He followed Thorin around the entire day and seemed to take an immense amount of joy out of doing simple things like using the sink and shutting doors. Those sort of things were impossible for him to easily do in his normal sized body, after all. It was certainly amusing to watch.

Eventually, Bilbo’s voice adjusted to his size. Thorin hadn’t ever really thought about what Bilbo’s first words would be – or at least, the first words he would be able to understand – but he certainly hadn’t expected them to be, _“Can I please fix your garden? It’s awful!”_

It seemed exactly like something he would say, what with his love for flowers, so Thorin had laughed. Bilbo really was such a strange person, but the sight of him, the sound of his voice; it filled Thorin with a feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was oddly refreshing, and once he realised it was a feeling he didn’t want to let go of he wondered if his heart would get him into trouble soon enough.

Before the kids came home Bilbo would have to transform back, but for now Thorin was allowed his company. They sat on the porch swing out the back to watch the forest over the fence. Thorin didn’t asked Bilbo about it and Bilbo didn’t speak a word of it, so he dismissed his uneasy thoughts regarding Bilbo’s departure. Instead he simply enjoyed Bilbo’s company, and tried not to flush when Bilbo’s hand inched over so that their littlest fingers could interlock.


	12. Felicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo doesn't know what a grocery store is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felicity - _intense happiness._

It became somewhat of a secret, just for Thorin and Bilbo to share, after Bilbo changed sizes for the first time. Thorin didn’t think it was wise to let the children know that Bilbo had the ability to change sizes, mostly because he didn’t want the children to become dependent on Bilbo’s company. He didn’t like thinking about it, but when Bilbo did leave he didn’t want his nephews to become distraught or think they had been abandoned, and if they started thinking of Bilbo like they thought of regular humans than that was a very likely possibility. 

Regardless, Thorin started to enjoy Bilbo’s company more and more. His voice was expectedly quite relaxing to listen to, and was perhaps the most melodic thing Thorin had ever heard. He had a quirky way of speaking and made a lot of references to the forest that Thorin didn’t completely understand, but it still left him feeling oddly at ease. 

Of course, there were times Bilbo was left in the house on his own during which Thorin worried quite a lot. Bilbo had run out of honey to eat now, and Thorin wasn’t quite sure how he entertained himself when no one else was home. Thorin had shown him how to use the television and Bilbo was free to go just about anywhere in the house, but there were only so many ways one could entertain themselves in someone else’s house. 

Bilbo was becoming increasingly curious about the human world now that his size was on par with it. He hadn’t had much exposure to it prior to arriving at Thorin’s house, and was easily fascinated by things that fairies didn’t have in their own homes. There were things that humans needed that fairies did not, like ladders and shoes and, oddly enough, clocks. 

(“How do you tell the time?” Thorin had asked, puzzled.

“Ah, we just know it.” Bilbo had replied, equally as confused. “Can humans not tell the time without these clocks?”)

Perhaps it was the outside world, however, that made Bilbo the most curious. When Thorin had mentioned he was going to the grocery store to get some things, Bilbo hadn’t know what he’d been talking about. Even when Thorin explained the store as best he could Bilbo simply couldn’t fathom how all of the food a human would ever need could be found in just one place. Thorin supposed that fairies didn’t have grocery stores, then. 

“Can’t I go with you?” Bilbo asked, eyes wide and pleading, the next time Thorin mentioned he needed to go to the grocery store. “I want to see this food market of yours.”

“Bilbo…” Thorin started, sighing. “You know that no one can see you.”

“I know.” Bilbo said. “I could just shrink down.”

“It wouldn’t work.” Thorin shook his head. “There’s too many distractions at the store, not to mention there are children there, too, and security cameras. You wouldn’t be able to blend in well enough.”

Bilbo’s lips pushed out into a pout, and he stared at Thorin harder. “Can’t I come?”

Thorin hesitated, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “But your wings-”

“I’ll keep them under my clothes!”

“I’ll wear a hat.” Bilbo said. “Please, Thorin?”

It was unfair that Bilbo could wear an expression like that. Thorin felt his resolve quickly dissolving, and he pursed his lips. Bilbo’s wings, even if they laid flat against his back, would still poke out from beneath his sweater… But if he wore a coat, one of Thorin’s maybe, and a beanie to cover his daintily pointed ears… 

Thorin groaned when he realised he’d already starting thinking about it, and Bilbo knowingly grinned. It was really unfair.

 

Finding clothes to fit Bilbo wasn’t difficult. The clothes he wore as a fairy always grew in size with him, but considering they weren’t long enough or big enough to hide his wings, Thorin found him something else instead. He still had a sweater that was just a little too small for him stuffed into the back of his closet, and after Bilbo carefully folded his wings against his back he pulled it on. Thorin’s coat, predictably, was far too big for him, but Bilbo insisted that it was fine after he had Thorin roll the sleeves up.

As it turned out, shoes were the hardest thing to find. Bilbo had never worn them and seemed to regard them disdainfully, but after finding a pair that fit him well enough, his attention was diverted to their impending outing and he seemed to forget his discomfort. Thorin fixed a beanie over Bilbo’s ears and clipped it in place with two of Kili’s colourful, plastic hairclips, and then they were on their way. 

Bilbo was completely enamoured with the grocery store. His eyes shined with curiosity as he stared at every item they passed. Thorin didn’t usually take long at the store, but he had a feeling he’d be there for a while, today. 

“Thorin, Thorin!” Bilbo cried enthusiastically. “Look, it’s the biscuits in your cupboard!”

Thorin chuckled as he watched Bilbo fawn over the shelves of biscuits. “Want to grab them?”

Bilbo’s eyes widened as he stared back at Thorin. “C-can I?”

“Yes.” Thorin answered, amused. “Just put them in this basket.”

Bilbo couldn’t stop grinning after that. He insisted on putting everything in the basket himself, and couldn’t help but fawn over the brighter displays. “This is a genius invention!” He declared as he carefully selected four perfectly rosy apples from the fruit section. “What did you call it again? A grocer store?”

“Grocery.” Thorin corrected.

“Grocery.” Bilbo nodded to himself. “I see. We don’t really have those, you know! There’s a small market, but it’s only open some days. We grow or find most of our food ourselves.”

When they reached the aisle that had honey in it, Bilbo truly lit up. He let out an excited _“Uwah!”_ sound as he stared at all the types of honey there were. The shelf itself was narrow and nestled in between shelves of more popular foods, but Bilbo seemed enamoured regardless.

“Thorin…!” Bilbo said, blindly pawing for Thorin’s hand to pull him forwards. “Thorin, look at all the honey!”

Thorin couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “You like honey so much!” He said. “We have to get more anyway, do you want to choose which one?”

Bilbo looked so happy that he might burst as he whirled back around to face the shelf. Thorin noticed the coat rustling awkwardly, and placed a warning hand on Bilbo’s wings to still them. Bilbo hardly noticed, and instead reached up to choose the honey he wanted. For a moment Thorin left him be as he moved just a few shelves down the aisle to pick up something else. 

He expected to find Bilbo still debating over his choice when he turned back around, but instead Bilbo came up to him. He looked incredibly satisfied with himself, and his eyes glittered as he carried at least six jars of honey in his arms. Thorin couldn’t possible fathom why he wanted so much – and all different brands, too – but he simply offered the shopping cart and tried not to smile too much when Bilbo gave him a happy, flushed grin.


	13. Feature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin learns more about fairies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feature - _a distinctive attribute or aspect of something._

“Why don’t you ever wear shoes? Don’t your feet get cold?”

Bilbo gave Thorin a puzzled look and glanced down at his bare feet. He wiggled his toes, and shrugged. “Our feet don’t really get cold.” He said. “They’re tough!”

Thorin chuckled. “Is that so?” He said. “Do your wings get cold?”

Bilbo hummed thoughtfully. “Sometimes? But they feel more sensitive than cold, per say. We can’t fly if there’s frost in the air, or if the wind is particularly chilly. It’s very uncomfortable.”

Thorin observed Bilbo curiously. He was seated at the kitchen table leisurely eating little teaspoons full of honey, and was wearing a knitted sweater with space in the back for his wings to flutter through with ease. When he was human-sized like this it was simple for Thorin to see all the details in those wings. They truly were a sight to behold, and the more Thorin stared the more he noticed. They were so many little details, so many little veins and opalescent flecks of colours and dazzling shapes to take in. He doubted he’d ever seen anything as beautiful. 

“Do all fairies like honey as much as you do?” Thorin asked. 

“No, it’s just a preference of mine.” Bilbo admitted with a bashful grin. “It’s hard to come by in the forest, especially in this sort of quantity! I love sweet things.”

“I’ve noticed.” Thorin chuckle. “Why is it hard to come by? Is it because of the bees?”

Bilbo nodded. “They get very miffed when someone enters their hive, and even more so when their honey is taken too frequently.”

“How do you get it, then?”

“There’s a beekeeper, a man named Beorn, who controls the bees.”

“A man?”

“He’s not human.” Bilbo shook his head. “I don’t know what he is, but he’s more like a bear than anything else. He usually gives us our honey, but a lot of us like to have more, so we harvest from the bees too. Generally they tolerate our presence, and some are even friendly, but I suppose it depends on the day.”

“I never realised that your species would face such troubles.” Thorin mused. “What other foods do you eat?”

“Oh, a large variety of vegetables and fruits, mainly.” Bilbo said. “Sometimes fish – just a couple of them can feed the entire Shire!”

“Shire?”

“Our village.” Bilbo explained. “Where we all live. It’s not too far from a river.”

Thorin nodded. He vaguely knew of the river Bilbo was speaking about, and it was quite far from any human settlements or trails. He had no problem believing that the Shire could be completely hidden forever in a place so removed from civilisation. “Do you live in houses?”

Bilbo nodded. “We have houses built in and on trees, but there are houses under the ground, too. It just depends on which part of the Shire you’re from.” 

“What part are you from?”

“I live underground, in a house called Bag-End.” Bilbo explained. “My father built it for my mother. It’s somewhat removed from the rest of the village, but not overly so. There are still paths that connect it to the markets and to the neighbours’ homes.”

For a moment, Thorin wondered if the distance – however small it was – made Bilbo feel lonely. “Do you have any siblings?”

Bilbo shook his head again. “No, my parents wanted to have more children but they were unable to. They doted on me quite a bit as a result, though.” He chuckled.

Thorin smiled to himself. Bilbo didn’t seem resentful or upset when he talked about his family, and it was nice to hear. Thorin had never really thought about how Bilbo might have grown up, but he thought that perhaps Bilbo had a nice childhood. “Is your wing all better now?”

Experimentally, Bilbo fluttered his wings. They responded well to his prompting, and he gave Thorin a pleased smile. “They’re all better!” He exclaimed. “I was sure I wouldn’t be able to fly again. I really must thank you for helping me so much.”

“It’s not a problem.” Thorin said. “I’m glad I could help you.”

Bilbo grinned. His wings fluttered in response to Bilbo’s obvious enjoyment, and he absently stretched them. Sunlight glinted off the metal clasps at the base of them, and Thorin’s attention was diverted.

“Why exactly is the metal there, again?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “The scars on your back are quite large.” He said. He’d seen the scars when he helped pull sweaters over Bilbo’s head to avoid hurting his wings. The skin around the back of his wings was marred and discoloured, and had likely been made so when the metal was welded to his back. Despite its rather ornate appearance, Thorin still thought it looked frightfully painful.

Bilbo glanced over at the metal in question. “When we’re born, our wings are incredibly fragile.” He explained. “They aren’t strong enough to be unfolded, and children cannot lay on their back or else the shape of the wings will be irrevocably changed. Our wings are not strong enough for us to fly with until we’re at least five years old, and even then children do not fly often. If our wings were to be damaged or, even worse, removed – then it’s likely we’ll die.”

A frown came over Thorin’s face. He stayed quiet.

“Prey can easily catch us if we can’t fly, after all.” Bilbo continued. “And it would be impossible to get around the Shire. Without the ability to fly we become quite depressed, and it’s not unheard that a wingless fairy will take their life to escape being earthbound.”

“How awful.” Thorin murmured.

Bilbo nodded. “After a month or so has passed and an infant is stable enough to be moved around, their wings will be separated from their back for the first time and shards of metal will be melted over the joint. It’s incredibly painful, but no one’s ever died from it, and after the metal has cooled and the wound has been sealed then the pain is easily forgotten. The clasps grow as we do, and are rather ornate. Many people put their family crest on theirs, or other symbols of important.”

“I see…”

“I understand it must seem inhumane to you,” Bilbo said with a weak smile, “But it’s the only way to ensure our wings aren’t plucked off before they’re strong enough to fly long distances with. Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, before we welded them, more children were dying from losing their wings than being born, and this was the only viable solution. It’s worked out well enough.”

Thorin nodded. “It’s not so bad.” He said, placing a comforting hand on top of Bilbo’s little one. “I’m just worried. Such a wound looks quite painful.”

“It no longer pains me.” Bilbo reassured him, flushing. “But thank you for caring.”


	14. Febricity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin doesn't often have bad dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Febricity - _the condition of having a fever._

Thorin couldn’t remember the last time he had had a dream that left him restless and unsettled when he woke from it. He dreamed often, though he hardly remembered what exactly he saw when he slept, but it was never anything particularly bad. Strange, yes, and often quite confusing, but not inherently unsettling. 

One night, however, he did have a bad dream. He had thought that perhaps bad dreams were meant for young children who feared things like the dark and the sort of things that could go bump in the night, but realistically he knew that not even those who had completely grown up could completely escape their fears by sleeping. When he woke, he couldn’t quite remember what it had been that he dreamed of, but it left him sweaty and frowning, clutching harshly at his bedsheets like they could offer him some form of comfort unlike anything else.

He woke, and the room was quiet. Nothing seemed particularly out of place, and it made him frown to himself as he gathered the strength to sit up. He didn’t know what it was that had woken him, but he thought that perhaps it might have been nothing.

It had been a while since he’d woke up in the middle of the night like this. When he was younger and he had a lot more stress weighing down his shoulders, it wasn’t too uncommon for him to experience bad dreams. He had had to do a lot of adult things when he was a child, like looking after his two younger siblings in place of his father and running the household in place of his mother. He hadn’t had a bad childhood and his parents hadn’t been bad people, but it had been more than he could handle at times, and he often had bad dreams because of it.

Now that he was older, they certainly weren’t as common. He didn’t have to worry over his little siblings as much now that they could take care of themselves, and Thorin had long since gotten over his hesitation at taking care of two young children that were biologically not his own. With a job that was steady and a household he enjoyed running, there hadn’t been much for him to have bad dreams over.

Sometimes, unfortunately, they still persisted for no real reason whatsoever.

Tiredly, he reached for his phone. He sent both of his little siblings a text asking if they were alright, knowing that even though it was the middle of the night that they’d reply. They always did, just to sooth Thorin’s nerves. While he waited for their replies he shuffled out of bed and went to check on the children. Both Fili and Kili were peacefully sleeping when Thorin peered into their rooms, and nothing was out of place. Seeing them comfortable made him feel a little more at ease, and he returned to bed just as Frerin and Dis sent him a short but reassuring message.

It must just have been one of those strange, unprovoked dreams, then. Thorin never enjoyed having them, and he knew that when he woke in the morning he certainly wouldn’t be as energetic throughout the day as he usually was. When he rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes to sleep once more, a quiet chattering noise stopped him. He opened his eyes once more, and just faintly he saw Bilbo flutter over. Thorin blinked, and before he could fully process what had happened Bilbo had changed sizes. He glittered for a moment, before his weight pressed against the bed and his form settled. 

“Are you alright?” Bilbo asked quietly. He tiled his head to the side, and just faintly Thorin could see the dainty point of one ear peeking out through his hair. He looked sleepy.

“It’s nothing.” Thorin murmured. “Sorry for waking you.”

Bilbo simply shook his head. “It’s alright.” He said. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Something like that…”

Bilbo hummed, and glanced over at Thorin’s phone. “What did you call that box of light, again? A phone?”

“That’s right.” Thorin said. “I was just seeing if my siblings are alright.”

Bilbo laid down on the bed and rested his head on the pillow as he observed Thorin with searching eyes. “Are you alright?”

It was a strange question to be asked, and for a few moments Thorin felt shocked that he had been asked it at all. Bilbo eyes were shining with something Thorin didn’t understand, and they seemed to glow brighter than they had before. Somehow they made Thorin feel tireder, and for a bit he forgot what he had been asked. Still, he gave the question considerable thought before carefully wording his response.

“I think I’m alright now.” He said quietly. As best he could, he offered Bilbo a smile. “It’s nice not being alone anymore.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened. His wings flickered up, and just briefly Thorin’s face was bathed in the moonlight that filtered through them. It was truly dazzling, and he felt like those little flecks of colours would never leave his eyes, like the bright white specs of sunlight that stayed in his field of vision when he looked at the sun for a little too long. They were irresistibly beautiful, and left an imprint on Thorin’s mind that would likely never leave.

But then those wings lowered, and Bilbo’s eyes fell on him. “Sleep well.” He murmured.

As if following a command, Thorin’s eyes lowered. He felt a tiredness unlike any other pass through him, one he hadn’t experienced before. It seemed to seep into his bones right through his skin, and soon enough the tension in his head began to dissipate. He slumped further against his pillow, and felt his expression soften. Was this magic, or some sort of affect from having Bilbo so close? He didn’t know, and as soon as the question rose in his mind it quickly faded. A sated state of nothingness overcame him, and after exhaling deeply, he fell asleep.

When he woke in the morning, Bilbo was gone.


	15. Forsake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin tries to figure out what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forsake - _abandon or leave._

“Bilbo? Bilbo, where are you?” Thorin asked as he pushed himself upright. He seemed to have overslept, but not by much, so he expected Bilbo to be awake and chattering. The little fairy had always woken up before him, and even though his wing had healed he never strayed from the room until Thorin woke, too. He usually fluttered over to bother Thorin for breakfast the moment he noticed Thorin was up and about.

But this time, Bilbo didn’t come. Thorin slipped out from beneath the bedsheets and made his way over to the fairy house, which still sat on his dresser. When he peered into it, Bilbo wasn’t there. He frowned, and wondered if perhaps Bilbo had made his own way to the kitchen this morning. He was rather fond of honey, after all, and now that they had so much of it stocked up he didn’t have to ration how much he consumed. It didn’t seem like such a far-fetched idea.

The kitchen was just as cold and empty as he’d left it the previous night. “Bilbo?” He called tentatively. He checked in the panty to see if there was any honey missing, but all of the jars that Bilbo had picked out where still there. For some strange reason, it made him smile a little. There was no reasonable way he’d ever be able to eat that much honey, not for a long time, even if he did start giving it to Fili and Kili a little more often. Only someone like Bilbo would be able to eat so much of it so frequently. He really did like sweet things, didn’t he?

So where could he be, then, if he weren’t in his bed, and he hadn’t fluttered away to fawn over his honey?

A cold feeling started to settle in Thorin’s stomach, but he shook his head and dismissed it. He’d never controlled Bilbo’s actions before, and Bilbo had always been completely free to wander around his home and garden as he pleased. It wasn’t strange for Thorin to find Bilbo out in the garden when he had disappeared during the day, and although Bilbo had never gone out in the morning Thorin rationalised that he could be there. 

It was cold outside when Thorin ventured out. There was still dew on the grass, and the chilliness of the night time winter air hadn’t quite dissipated. He faintly thought that perhaps he should have pulled a jacket on before going outside, but just for the moment he should be fine. 

“Bilbo!” He tried again. He wandered over to the garden beds but none of the flowers had been disturbed, and none were blossoming unexpectedly early. He felt that feeling of dread stir in his stomach again, but he stubbornly pushed it back and continued to walk around the garden. His bare feet were going numb but it was easily ignored when all his thoughts were revolving around the little fairy he’d come to like so much. 

He couldn’t just assume to know what Bilbo was doing, right? He could have been doing anything. Maybe he’d wandered around before Thorin had woken, and fallen asleep somewhere. The sun had risen and there were warm patches of it just about everywhere, and it wasn’t uncommon for Bilbo to seek them out to nap. He’d done it often enough that it was a reasonable thing for him to be doing now, wasn’t it?

Or he was gone.

Thorin stopped, and turned his head to glance over at the forest. A breeze rustled the leaves, and just faintly Thorin could feel it brush against his cheeks. He couldn’t bear to look at those trees for long, not when he knew what they were hiding. Instead he hung his head and turned away.

 

“Uncle Thorin, are you alright?”

“Hmm?” Thorin murmured as he slid a plate of food across the table to Fili. “I’m alright, Fee.”

“You look sad.” Fili said, frowning. He looked at Thorin with big eyes, eyes that were far too perceptive for his age. 

Thorin forced a smile. Even if his nephew was exceptionally smart for his age, he was still a child, and children tended to believe smiles for as long as they didn’t realise that smiles could hide the truth. “I’m alright, just tired.” He said. “How was school?”

Dinner progressed averagely. For what it was worth, Thorin was able to carry out his parental duties well enough. He didn’t want Fili and Kili to know that Bilbo had left without saying goodbye, so he didn’t bring it up. The children were too preoccupied with other things to notice, though Thorin doubted it would be long now before they asked for the fairy. Thorin had had all day to think about what he would say if either of the children asked about Bilbo so it wasn’t like he would have to tell them the truth, but somehow it still felt wrong.

He had feared that the children would feel abandoned by Bilbo when Bilbo left, but he hadn’t realised that he would, too. It felt incredibly stupid when he thought about it, but that faint ringing of pain still echoed in his chest. He hadn’t felt like this since Dis left the children with him for the first time, and he didn’t like it.

It was incredibly lonely on his own.

 

When he went to bed that night, he left the window open just a crack. It was too cold at this time of year to do it, but he did anyway. He couldn’t bring himself to shut it, not when he stupidly hoped that maybe Bilbo might come back, if only to say goodbye.

It was different going to bed when he knew the room was empty of life other than his own. For how many years had he done it without complaint, only to nnow have problems after knowing a little woodland creature for a handful of months? It was stupid, and he could help but grit his teeth and turn away from the window as though he could just as easily forget his endlessly revolving thoughts.

But nothing was ever that easy.


	16. Flit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flit - _an act of moving house or leaving one's home, typically secretly so as to escape creditors or obligations._

Adjusting to a house that was inhabited just by himself was a strange thing to do. Thorin could easily forget about his worries when Fili and Kili were home, but during the day, when he was on his own, it was much harder. How could he have become so accustomed to Bilbo’s presence in such a short amount of time? He didn’t think he had been this lonely before, so why did he feel like his house had become so cold all of a sudden?

It was frustrating, and there was only so much word he could distract himself with. He burned through all of his commissions within days, and although it was a simple enough task to acquire more, it wasn’t fulfilling. It wasn’t as though he didn’t enjoy his work, but rather he simply couldn’t lose himself in it anymore. He constantly found himself glancing at windows or peering across at the places Bilbo usually like to lounge around at hoping he’d see a little flicker of movement or hear a quiet, familiar chatter, not there was never anything there.

He really grew to resent himself for it. He always knew that Bilbo would have to return home eventually, and he was sure to never limit Bilbo’s freedom when it came to moving around. He purposefully let Bilbo act as he wished, and never once asked Bilbo to stay. He knew Bilbo would leave, and maybe he only felt this upset because he’d always expected to at least get a “goodbye” before that happened.

 

Dis returned from her business trip a week after Bilbo left. Thorin was well aware that she had noticed something was wrong with him, but she’d never bring it up with the children around. Instead they caught up and had a nice dinner. Dis would stay in his spare room for one night while the children packed their things, and then they would return home. Dis’s business trips only happened every handful of months so it wasn’t like Thorin hadn’t expected this, too, and although he always missed his family he had never had too much of a problem being alone before.

But it was different now, and no matter how much Thorin wished it wasn’t there was no way around it.

“How are you feeling?” Dis asked as they sat at the kitchen table with fresh cups of tea. “You seem a little tired.”

“I’ve got a lot of projects to work on.” Thorin said distantly. “Maybe I’m a little run down from working so much lately.”

Dis hummed. She had always been quite perceptive – it was where her children got it from – and she undoubtedly didn’t believe him. “Have you met someone?”

He startled at the question, and frowned. “No, why?”

“It seemed like you had.” Dis answered. She took a sip of tea before continuing. “You seemed a lot happier lately, and the kids were, too. I thought that perhaps you’d met someone new and just hadn’t told me.”

Thorin shook his head. “It’s not… It’s not like that.” He sighed.

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.” Dis said reassuringly. “And don’t get me wrong, I have no doubt that you’ll figure it out. But if you need someone to talk to, you know you can always call me, right? I’ll answer.”

“I know.” Thorin murmured. “You have your own life to attend to.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Dis said. “You’re my big brother, so it’s my duty to look out for you.”

“Doesn’t that seem a little backwards?”

Dis grinned. “Of course not.” She said. “If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t know how to use the washing machine.”

“Oi,” He said light-heatedly, “That was one time, and it has a lot of buttons, okay? If I remember correctly, even you were a little stumped by it, at first.”

Dis chuckled. “Alright, alright.” She absently waved a hand. “Thank you for looking after the boys for so long, again. I feel like I should start paying you for all the babysitting that you do.”

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t accept the money anyway.” He said. “You know I love looking after them, even if they like to get their sticky hands on everything. They’re good kids.”

Dis nodded in agreement. “They are. They really love being here, you know. They never finish a conversation without mentioning your fairy houses at least once.”

Thorin gave her a strained smile. “They’re a lot of fun to make.” He said. “The boys like to furnish them.”

“They’ve taken quite an interest in fairies lately.” Dis said. “Have you been reading them stories? It’s cute.”

Thorin shook his head again. “No.” He said. “It must be the houses.” 

Realistically, he knew it wasn’t the houses. It was Bilbo. But Dis would think he was troubled if he suddenly started talking about real-life fairies, especially with no proof to back him up other than a cupboard full of too much honey, and that wasn’t convincing at all. He didn’t like lying to her, but omitting the truth didn’t fill him with the same sting it used to. Maybe that was because he still hadn’t fully come to terms with it either. He might tell her, one day, but certainly not today. He didn’t think he could stomach it.

Dis finished her tea and placed her mug in the sink. “I might head to bed now.” She said as she stretched her arms high above her head. “Make sure you get some rest too, okay?”

Thorin nodded. “Goodnight, Dis.”

“Goodnight.”

Thorin watched his tea as he listened to his little sister go to bed. After he heard her light switch turn off, he sighed, and drained the lukewarm liquid that had settled in his cup. He was tired, but he always felt tired these days, and no matter how much he slept he still woke up looking forwards the fairy house as if it could solve all his problems. Tiredly, he stood and placed his mug beside Dis’s, before heading to bed himself. The room was expectedly cold, and even when he slipped under the covers he still couldn’t chase the chill away.

As he closed his eyes to sleep, he thought that perhaps he might have heard a quiet chatter from the window.


	17. Frequent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin wanted a distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frequent - _visit (a place) often._

The house was exceptionally quiet without Fili and Kili around. It had always been that way, and Thorin hadn’t expected anything different when they returned to their normal home with their mother, but it still saddened him. It always did, no matter how much he tried to reassure himself that he would see his family again. 

The quietness of the house, however, felt different. It would take days to settle, he knew, but he was so unexpectedly lonely that for a while he simply didn’t know what to do with himself. Work could only manage to distract him for so long, and he didn’t want the quality of anything he made to decrease due to his idleness of mind. What else did he usually spend his time doing? He couldn’t remember anymore.

So he spent his time doing things to occupy his mind. He worked and fixed things around his house that he’d been meaning to repair for months, and he even tried his hardest to keep his garden alive. It had lost its vibrancy after Bilbo left, and no matter what he did it simply wouldn’t recover. 

“How was your day?”

“Alright.” Thorin answered. Dis called to talk to him every day, and although he appreciated her concern he felt a little off put by it. He didn’t want to worry her. He’d always been the one to care for her, and to support her. He had to be strong for his siblings and his nephews, because if he wasn’t then who would be? “How are the boys?”

“They’re doing well.” Dis answered. “They’ve settled back into school easily, thanks to you. The two of them talk about you a lot, you know. They’re rather fond of you.”

Thorin chuckled. “Well I’m not going to say that’s a bad thing.” He said. “You know I love having them over.”

“I know, I know.” She laughed. “You’re a positive influence on them.”

Thorin smiled to himself, just for a moment. Recalling the faces of his nephews always left him feeling a little better. “Have you spoken to Frerin lately? He keeps forgetting to call me.”

“Ah, he does, doesn’t he?” Dis sighed. “I usually have time to call him, so I’ve been in contact with that ruffian. His memory is the worst! Regardless of that, he’s been doing alright.”

“I see.” Thorin murmured. “And his work?”

“Progressing well.” Dis answered. “You know he’s always been eccentric, Thorin. It’s best to let him work through it on his own, and wait for him to come to you. He’s not like me.”

“I know, I know.” Thorin said. “But it’s in my nature, Dis. I wish he would come over more often.”

“You’re only saying that because he lives a couple of hours away.” Dis laughed again. “You know he would visit more if he could, but with his work… Well, I doubt even you’d be able to stand him for too long if he was always coming over.”

“Perhaps.” Thorin sighed, defeated. “And how are you doing?”

 

A month after Bilbo left, there was a storm. It was a big one, one that Thorin heard about on the news before it arrived. He had packed away anything that could be damaged out in the backyard, and made sure to secure all of his windows. He doubted his house would be damaged, but it was better to be safe than sorry. 

When the rain started to fall, he was distantly reminded of the night when Bilbo had first arrived in his backyard. How a little fairy like him had managed to survive in a storm was a mystery, and the fact that he had somehow managed to take refuge in a house designed for fairies was nothing more than pure luck. If Bilbo had found himself in any other person’s yard, would he have been so quick to trust them? 

Perhaps Thorin was the lucky one, then. 

He sighed as he found himself wandering around with nothing to do, again. It was getting late and he didn’t want to pick up work until the morning had come, so he resigned himself to a night spend during nothing more than relaxing. It was a strange thought to process as he climbed into bed. He would read for as long as it took his eyes to tire, and then he would sleep. On any other occasion he didn’t think such an action would relax him, but with the sound of the rain it was an oddly comforting thing to do.

Though it had been a while, the sound of the rain reminded him of the quiet chattering sound he’d heard a while ago. He hadn’t heard it since, and was starting to believe it was just a figment of his imagination. It was a thought that had been bothering him for quite some time now, but there was nothing to be done about it.

He was tired when he started to hear something abnormal again. At first, the little knocking sounds simply faded in with the sound of the rain. He didn’t focus on them until they became increasingly more persistent, and after a moment he put down his book to instead glance around the room. Nothing seemed out of place, and he knew that there couldn’t be anyone in the house. It was storming outside, after all. Could there be a leak somewhere in the room? Or a branch knocking against a window? 

It seemed likely, but then the knocking insisted, and deep down in his stomach he realised that it simply couldn’t be anything explainable. He slipped out of bed and cautiously made his way around to the window. He couldn’t see anything as it was far too dark, but he could sense something there as though it was a physical presence at the back of his mind. It made him incredibly uneasy.

Just as he approached the window, it suddenly blew open. He held up his arms as the wind from the storm rushed into the room. When he blinked open his eyes open, Bilbo – who was the size of a human – was half-rested on his windowsill, soaked to the bone.


	18. Figure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin asks for answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figure - _think, consider, or expect to be the case._

“B-Bilbo…” Thorin said before he could stop himself. His eyes were wide and he felt still all over, like his heart had suddenly frozen and all the blood in his veins had turned cold. “But… But why?”

Bilbo wobbled on the windowsill as his grip tightened on the wood. He watched his feet as he lowered himself into the room, and stared at Thorin with bright eyes. “Thorin…!” He said breathlessly. “I’m so glad to see you again! I’m coming in.”

Thorin wanted to tell Bilbo that he was _already_ inside, but he bit back the words. A part of him still couldn’t comprehend that there was once again a fairy in his house. “Why are you here?” He asked. It was the only question he could think to say, and although he wanted to know what the answer was, it wasn’t the answer he was exactly searching for. No, he wanted to know why Bilbo left in the first place, but the words wouldn’t come to his mouth.

“What do you mean?” Bilbo asked as a small frown came to his face. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand?” Thorin repeated. “How could you not understand?”

“I just…” Bilbo started, flustered, as his expression started to turn worried. “I wanted to come back…”

“Why?” Thorin asked, eyebrows scrunching up. “Why would you want to come back?”

Bilbo seemed speechless for a moment, because he carefully murmured, “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Thorin gritted his teeth. Wasn’t it obvious? Had he been lonely all this time for nothing – didn’t Bilbo think anything of his actions? How could he not understand how he’d made Thorin feel? “You left,” He said through a clenched jaw, “And now you come back with no warning and think everything will be the same?” Abruptly, the tension in his shoulders drained, and he was overwhelmed by tiredness. “You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Bilbo instinctively reached out a hand, but after a moment he drew it back. “Thorin…”

He simply shook his head, and pressed a hand over his eyes. “Close the window.” He said tiredly. “And then stay here. I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”

Briefly, Bilbo’s eyes flickered over to the dresser. His fairy house was gone – Thorin had long since removed it when it started to keep him from sleeping well, and had tried not to think of it too much since. Bilbo’s eyes seemed to flicker with some faint form of understanding as he turned away from the empty dresser. “Thorin-”

“I’m tired.” He interrupted. He turned away from Bilbo before he could change his mind, and moved towards the door. “Don’t forget to shut the window.”

 

Waking up in his spare bedroom was disorientating. The room still smelt very faintly of the perfume Dis like to use, and while it was a comforting scent it was quite confusing to wake up to. His head was already pounding, and he couldn’t help but groan into the sheets when sunlight burned his blurry eyes. He forgot why he was in the spare room for a moment, but when his consciousness steadied, he remembered. 

The house was suspiciously quiet when he wandered into the kitchen. He made breakfast and ate it at the table by himself without any incidents, and he distantly started to wonder if he’d dreamed of it all. He shook his head to clear those thoughts, however, and instead glanced back at his bedroom. Bilbo was in there. He wasn’t sure why he was so sure of it, but he just knew. 

Soon enough, his bedroom door slowly inched open. Thorin waited until Bilbo has crept across the hall to sit across from him at the table to lift his head. He somewhat expected Bilbo to ask for food, but he didn’t. Instead he fidgeted in his seat, and looked as though he was searching for the right words to say. Thorin let him stew, unable to speak himself. He didn’t have the energy to confront Bilbo this morning, not when he was still shocked that Bilbo had returned. 

“I’m sorry, Thorin.” Bilbo finally murmured. His wings were drawn back and lowered, and he had his head bent. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

Thorin pursed his lips and fought down his urge to tell Bilbo it wasn’t his fault. He at least needed an explanation, didn’t he? After all that time he still hadn’t been able to figure out why Bilbo would suddenly leave like he had, especially considering Thorin had thought they had gotten much closer. 

“But…” Bilbo started. “But I didn’t say goodbye because saying goodbye means I won’t come back again.”

Thorin’s eyes widened at that. “But why did you leave without telling me?”

Bilbo squirmed again. “I wasn’t sure if leaving was the best idea.” He whispered. “We don’t… We don’t interact with humans for a reason, and amongst my people, my kind of attitude is unusual. They say my mother’s family line is full of people who admire adventuring far too much, and she was a little shunned for it. I mean, I am as well, but it hasn’t been so bad. I just… I inherited my mother’s free spirit, and neither of us wanted to stay in the Shire forever.”

If anything, Bilbo didn’t seem upset to admit such a thing. Rather, he seemed bashful, like perhaps it was embarrassing to talk about. “That doesn’t explain why you left.” Thorin murmured.

“To make sure this is where I wanted to be.” Bilbo answered on a shaky breath. “The Shire will always be my home, but… But I want to stay here, too. That’s what I wanted to confirm.”

“And your people?”

“Expectedly, they were on the verge of looting my home.” Bilbo sighed. “They don’t like that I’ve made contact with a human, even though I trust you. I doubt they ever will.”

Thorin glanced away as he took in the information. He didn’t know what to think about what he’d heard, and it left him feeling a little conflicted. “I don’t understand what you want.” He said, looking up to meet Bilbo’s eyes.

Bilbo blinked at him owlishly. His eyes were so bright with amber-coloured shards that it was completely startling, and even though there was colour rising in his cheeks he still looked just as confident and ethereal as usually. “What I want? Well, I want to stay with you. That’s all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling this only has a few chapters left! There's still more ideas I want to get through so there's nothing to worry about for now, but I'm unsure about what I should write next~ If you have any ideas or suggestions, feel free to tell me! You can also message me on my [tumblr](http://milkteamiku.tumblr.com/)


	19. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgiveness is a strange thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgiveness - _the action or process of forgiving or being forgiven._

It took the tension in Thorin’s heart a long time to ease until it felt like he could breathe again. While having Bilbo in the house made him a little nervous, it wasn’t a particularly bad thing. Rather, he felt relieved to finally know what had happened, and although he still lamented the fact that he’d been left out of Bilbo’s seemingly harmless plans, he knew it wasn’t something he should linger over.

So he didn’t. Instead he carried on as he had previously, though working on his commissions became much easier now that he wasn’t quite as distracted as before. His routine didn’t have to change too drastically now that Bilbo insisted on staying with him, and he even found that some parts of living with someone else, expectedly, were quite reassuring. He found it easier to cook for two people (he always struggled with portions after his nephews left) and if he happened to leave a light on after leaving a room, Bilbo always remembered to turn it off. 

He thought that perhaps everything soon returned to normal. It was a strange concept, but it was one he slipped into easily and seamlessly, and regardless of any negative feelings he still might be harbouring, they were easy to dismiss. In fact, after a while, they simply ceased to exist, and Thorin found that he didn’t care. Having Bilbo around made him feel irrationally content, and even if Bilbo had been the one to cause him so much stress over the last few months, it wasn’t intentional. That, at least, he believed.

After a week passed, all the tension seemed to settle. Bilbo spent a lot of time in his larger form, even though Thorin could see it clearly tired him out. He didn’t dare ask Bilbo why he did what he did, because he thought he might have already known the answer. Bilbo couldn’t communicate with him easily when he was in his normal form, and after he’d regained the energy to change sizes for the first time they’d undoubtedly gotten closer. Thorin didn’t know what sort of feelings Bilbo was trying to replicate by being human-sized for such longer periods of time, but he didn’t feel like it was his place to interfere. 

“You seem different, somehow.” Dis told him over the phone one evening. “Has something happened?”

“What do you mean?” Thorin asked, puzzled. “Nothing happened.”

Dis hummed thoughtfully. “I think something has.” She said. “Are you feeling better?”

Thorin thought about it for a moment. Was he? “I am.” He finally said. “How are the boys?”

Dis’s questioning surprised Thorin, and it kept him thinking even after he’d finished talking to her. Was Bilbo’s effect on him really so noticeable? He supposed that it must be if Dis could pick up on it even over the phone. When he thought about it more, he thought that maybe he had changed, a little. It was hard to stay the same around a person like Bilbo, and even if he had been human, Thorin thought that that statement would remain just as true.

When Bilbo joined him out on the porch that night, he looked quite thoughtful. “You haven’t told anyone about me.” He said, glancing at Thorin with curious eyes. “Not even your sister.”

“No, I haven’t.” Thorin agreed.

“Why?”

“There’s no reason for me to.” Thorin said simply. “It’s not my secret to tell, and the more people that know, the more danger you’ll be in, right?”

Bilbo’s eyes widened a little further, and he glanced away. “You can tell her, if you want.” He said. “If you trust her, then I do too.”

Even with Bilbo’s permission, Thorin felt reluctant to tell anyone of Bilbo’s existence. He didn’t know why, but after a moment he realised – it was because he liked knowing he was the only one to share Bilbo’s secret, aside from Fili and Kili. Somehow, having such a thing be between just the two of them felt precious, and Thorin was hesitant to disrupt it. However, it seemed unfair on Bilbo that he be hidden away like some sort of dirty secret. Maybe Bilbo wanted to meet the rest of Thorin’s family. In either case, it was completely his decision.

“Spring is going to arrive soon.” Bilbo remarked. “I can feel it in the air.”

“Do you like spring?”

“It’s my favourite time of the year.” Bilbo smiled to himself. “There are flowers everywhere, and the forest comes alive. Don’t you enjoy that time of year?”

Thorin thought to all the hay fever he suffered as a child, but faced with Bilbo’s dazzling smile he couldn’t help but nod. “Yes, it’s nice.”

Had conversation with Bilbo always been this easy? Thorin felt completely relaxed, more so than he had before, and he had no doubt it was Bilbo’s doing. If anything, Bilbo seemed relaxed, too. Thorin briefly thought back to when he’d felt like he could never forget the loneliness he felt, but now it only seemed like a distant, passing echo of something that was nothing more and nothing less than temporary. After growing accustomed to Bilbo’s presence, it seemed as though he couldn’t be without it.

“You’re a nice person, Thorin.” Bilbo murmured quietly as he drew his knees to his chest to rest his arms across them. “I’m lucky to have met you.”

“I hardly think that’s the case.” Thorin said, surprised. “It’s the other way around.”

Bilbo smiled, and rested his cheek on his arms. He looked oddly flushed, but in a happy sort of way that made Thorin’s heart begin to race in his chest. “Like I said,” Bilbo told him, “You’re very kind.”

It was strange, in a way, how easily Thorin forgave Bilbo. If it were any other person, he didn’t think he could have. It wasn’t as though Bilbo did anything particularly wrong, so in a sense Thorin thought that perhaps he was forgiving himself, too. It was thanks to Bilbo that he could allow himself such comfort, and only through Bilbo was he able to recognise that perhaps no one was at fault in the first place.

It was a lesson well learned.


	20. Flush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo likes Thorin's bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flush - _a sudden rush of intense emotion._

Thorin soon started discovering little quirks about Bilbo again as they settled into a comfortable routine. For instance, he found that Bilbo rather enjoyed napping in Thorin’s bed now that he was more often human-sized. Bilbo napped a lot more than Thorin did, and if he happened to disappear for an hour or so, Thorin knew exactly where to find him – curled up in Thorin’s bed sheets like he didn’t care that it wasn’t his bed. He probably didn’t, and after a couple of days of the same thing happening, Thorin found that he didn’t, either. 

Bilbo had started to expand his diet, too, now that he was sure the honey wouldn’t be going anywhere. He rather enjoyed eating the things Thorin made, and always made sure to tell Thorin so. While he didn’t eat meat other than fish, he liked the pasta dishes Thorin cooked, and it felt oddly refreshing to cook for someone with a taste pallet that was more mature than a child’s.

Before Thorin knew it, Bilbo had just about settled in completely. He found ways to entertain himself easily, and solved problems by himself that he would have otherwise asked Thorin about. Thorin found out that Bilbo could sew remarkably well, and after the fairy had seen Thorin working on constructing dollhouses as commissions, he’d taken it upon himself to furnish them. His taste in interior decoration was quite different from Thorin’s, and it was very appealing to look at. Thorin was glad for his help.

He’d learned to use the kettle, too, so now Thorin wasn’t the only one in the household making tea. In fact, as Bilbo slid a fresh cup towards Thorin, he found that he didn’t mind that Bilbo was learning his way around Thorin’s house. Even if the tea always had a little too much sugar in it, Thorin wasn’t one to complain. 

“Why do you build so many things?” Bilbo asked him as he took a seat at the desk Thorin had finally given him. “You make so many wonderful things, but you never keep any.”

“It’s my job.” Thorin answered. “People commission me to build something they want, or to repair something they own, and I get paid for doing it. It’s an enjoyable career.”

“Ah, I see.” Bilbo nodded knowingly. “We don’t really have jobs like that in the Shire, or at least not often.”

“Do you have a form of currency?”

“Yes.” Bilbo answered, grinning. “But it’s not used as frequently as humans use theirs. We mostly sell things we grow or make, and use that money to buy from someone else. It’s rather simple in comparison to humans, I suppose.”

Thorin chuckled. “Quite.” He said. “I don’t like dealing in the money business, other than when I have to.” 

Bilbo laughed and took a moment to take a sip of tea from his cup. “You don’t mind that I help?”

Thorin shook his head. “Not at all.” He answered. “It’s a big help, actually. I’m not terrible at sewing and interior design, but I think I’m much more suited to the actual building part. It’s easier to work on it when I know I don’t have to worry about what will go in it.”

“I’m glad, then.” Bilbo grinned, eyes bright. “I really enjoy it!”

 

If anything, Thorin thought Bilbo was very honest. His thoughts and feelings were clearly visible on his face and in his speech patterns, and Thorin was able to read him unexpectedly well. It wasn’t that Bilbo was simple to understand, but rather that Thorin felt confident enough to recognise Bilbo’s behavioural patterns.

Sometimes, however, Bilbo did things that were unpredictable. They weren’t exactly “fairy things” per say, but they were things that seemed unique to Bilbo himself. They were things Thorin thought he might have understood, though at first he was always quite puzzled by them. 

In the middle of the night, one of those odd things occurred. It was raining that night, but there wasn’t any sort of noticeable harshness to the storm, and Thorin had been lulled to the sleep by the gentle sounds of it. He wasn’t quite sure what woke him, but eventually he started to wade through the sleepy haze in his mind. Generally, Bilbo slept in his fairy size at night, in the same fairy house he used to sleep in. Thorin had changed out the furniture and placed it back on his dresser after spending an afternoon with Bilbo rearranging the new furniture to his liking.

That night, however, Bilbo seemed to forgo his home in favour of changing sizes. He was quiet as he pressed against the mattress – it had been what had woken Thorin – and he seemed to hesitate before he inched closer. 

“Bilbo?” Thorin murmured tiredly. “Are you alright?”

A concerned noise came from Bilbo’s throat. “I didn’t mean to wake you…” He whispered. “I… Can I sleep here? I want to.”

Thorin’s eyes widened. It seemed impossible to him that Bilbo could want a thing, let alone ask for it, and it was so out of character that for a moment he was speechless. He watched Bilbo carefully, and wondered what he should do. Bilbo clearly looked nervous, and Thorin thought that maybe Bilbo wouldn’t have risked it if he didn’t know Thorin would wake up. It was surprisingly easy to make a decision when he gave it a quick thought, and he pulled back the bedsheets accommodatingly. 

Bilbo’s wings fluttered for a moment, casting patterned shadows across the wall, before he folded them up comfortably and slipped in beside Thorin. He shivered before adjusting to the temperature change, and slowly relaxed. “Thank you, Thorin.” He said quietly.

“It’s not a problem.” Thorin replied. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, and no matter how much he tried to tame it he simply couldn’t. Bilbo made him unreasonably flustered, especially when he was this close. Thorin could just about feel the heat coming from his skin. It made Thorin flush with a sudden rush of emotion that expanded in his chest and threatened to burst through his lips, unbidden. “Really.” He added, just in case he had been unconvincing. 

Bilbo smiled gently, and buried his face in one of Thorin’s pillows. His cheeks had turned red. “Goodnight.”


	21. Forenoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin came to like mornings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forenoon - _the morning._

It became a regular thing for Bilbo to sleep in Thorin’s bed. Even if he was in his normal size for most of the night he still managed to curl up with a quilt from the fairy house on one of Thorin’s pillows. At first Thorin had been worried he might injure Bilbo in his sleep, but it never happened, and soon enough those concerns faded. 

In fact, the more time Bilbo spent in his larger size, the easier it became for him to prolong it. When Thorin finally asked him about it, Bilbo told him that using large amounts of magic was like learning how to run long distances – that the more he did it, the easier it became for him to extend the time limit. In essence, his stamina regarding magic usage was increasing.

More often Bilbo slept in his human size, too. Thorin thought that he might have done that for Thorin’s sake now that he slept in Thorin’s bed, and instead he returned to his normal form more throughout the day to compensate. It wasn’t uncommon for Thorin to wake up and find that he had a wing delicately thrown over his shoulders, or that all the sheets had been pilfered by Bilbo while he slept. If it were only those things then perhaps he wouldn’t have minded sharing a bed with someone after so many years of sleeping alone, but Bilbo had another strange habit – in his sleep, he simply couldn’t stop himself from wriggling across the bed until he was pressed head to toe against Thorin. 

In any other instance, Thorin probably wouldn’t have cared. But he did, because it felt _good,_ and having Bilbo so close all of a sudden made him incredibly flushed. He never knew what to do with himself, especially on the mornings when he woke up before Bilbo did (which was becoming a more frequent occurrence, he noticed). He had no idea how to approach Bilbo on the subject so he never did, and a little greedily he allowed himself to enjoy the closeness sharing a bed with Bilbo gave him.

Of course, Bilbo seemed none the wiser – or if he was, then he was quite adept at hiding his bashfulness. Regardless of Thorin’s own embarrassment, he enjoyed sharing a bed with Bilbo, eventually. It was nice to wake up so warm in the mornings, and even if Bilbo was a little clingy in his sleep Thorin didn’t particularly mind. 

“Will you ever return to the Shire?” Thorin asked Bilbo one morning as they worked together quietly. “Not that I want you to leave, but…”

“No, I understand.” Bilbo said. “I might leave soon, but I’ll come back. I want to check on my house, and make sure the garden is alright.”

Thorin nodded. “What’s your home like?”

“Bag-End? Oh, it’s lovely.” He smiled. “I’m sure you would have liked it, the design is quite marvellous. My father built it underground for my mother as a marriage present. The corridors are winding, and the doorways are circular. There are windows that let you glance out above ground.”

Thorin tried to imagine it, but he thought that the image he conjured in his head couldn’t quite match up to the grandeur of the place Bilbo lived in. “It sounds wonderful.” He said. “Do you like living underground?”

Bilbo chuckled. “It’s just the same as living above ground to me, though perhaps a touch colder.” He answered. For a moment, he glanced around Thorin’s home as if seeing it for the first time again. “Human houses are much more interesting.” He declared.

“How so?”

“Well, they’re much bigger!” He said with a cheeky grin. “And humans have electricity, that’s quite handy! I like all the things you humans make, and the setup of your rooms is very refreshing. It’s different in our houses – we have more corridors and smaller rooms, though there are a lot more. Our families are often quite big so we have to have a lot of space, and when our houses are built in trees that means we often expand along the branches, too.”

Thorin nodded again. He always enjoyed hearing Bilbo talk about his home. It was so different to what Thorin knew, just in the same way Thorin’s lifestyle was different to Bilbo’s. It made him wish he could see Bilbo’s house one day, but he knew it was impossible. He was far too large, after all. Either way, it was nice to listen to. Bilbo seemed willing to share all of the information too, so Thorin took advantage of his enthusiasm.

There were other things they talked about, too. In fact, Thorin thought they talked about just everything. Conversation seemed to never stop, and even if it did for a few hours, it didn’t feel like it had. It was remarkably easy to talk to Bilbo, and doing so left Thorin feeling lighter in his chest than he had in a while.

Still, perhaps a little selfishly, he came to enjoy sharing a bed the most. It felt subtly intimate, and knowing that Bilbo trusted Thorin enough to be so vulnerable beside him was quite a comforting thought. He trusted Bilbo too, in that sense – he felt no hesitance going to sleep knowing that Bilbo was both in his house and in his bed. The waking up part was always his favourite, though. He’d never met anyone as warm as Bilbo. 

“Are you ever going to tell anyone about me?” Bilbo asked him one night after all the lights had been turned out and the curtains had been closed. “It’s your choice, you know.”

“Maybe.” Thorin answered. “But not now.”

Bilbo smiled faintly, and shifted a little closer. “I really do like staying here.” He whispered. “Thank you for letting me.”

“It’s… It’s my pleasure, really.” Thorin said, surprised. He felt flushed, but didn’t flinch when Bilbo wiggled even closer. He could feel Bilbo’s gentle breathes on his face, and he could smell the faint scent of soap in Bilbo’s curly hair. When Bilbo nuzzled his head under Thorin’s chin, just tentatively, he simply closed his eyes and let himself enjoy Bilbo’s closeness. “Goodnight.” He whispered.

He eagerly awaited morning, and hoped that he would be the first to wake just so he could see Bilbo’s peaceful, sleeping face for a little while longer.


	22. Fulfil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo had never been to the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fulfil - _achieve or realize (something desired, promised, or predicted)._

“When are the children coming back?”

“Hmm?” Thorin murmured, glancing up at Bilbo curiously. “Dis goes on business trips every couple of months or so, so maybe in a few weeks? Why?”

Bilbo glanced away, looking a little embarrassed. “No reason.” He was quick to say. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” Thorin grinned. “You miss them, then.”

Redness quickly rose in Bilbo’s cheeks as he spluttered for a moment before huffing and turning his head away. “You’re being mean!”

Thorin laughed, and leaned back in his seat to watch Bilbo fondly. His wings were fluttering in faint indignation, and his fingers had found the hem of his sweater. “I’m not being mean.” He replied, amused. “I miss them too. They talk about you a lot, you know.”

Bilbo blinked at him owlishly, eyes wide. “D-do they really?”

“Of course they do.” Thorin nodded. “My sister, Dis, says that they’re positively enamoured with fairies now. She thinks I read them stories before bed.”

Bilbo chuckled. “They’re such mischievous little kids. They remind me of the children from the Shire a lot.”

Thorin was always learning little things about the Shire like that. Bilbo had no hesitance when it came to talking about his home, and he seemed to like Thorin’s curiosity towards it. In turn, he was just as curious about the human world. Thorin had yet to take him anywhere other than the grocery store, but he was sure that would change soon enough. He wanted to be careful with Bilbo’s wings, after all.

As it turned out, that moment eventually came up. Thorin didn’t have any pressing commissions that day, and as spring startled to settle in he getting the urge to explore. He always liked to keep his perspective fresh and new when he worked on important commissions, especially ones where the customer left it up to him to decorate or design, and so he always enjoyed visiting places and experiencing things to gain inspiration.

“Bilbo, have you ever seen the ocean?”

Bilbo’s eyes flickered up to him unexpectedly fast. “No.” He said. “It’s much too far for us to ever travel, but I’ve heard about it, and seen pictures in books. Have you been there before?”

Thorin nodded, surprised. It never occurred to him that the distance from the forest to the beach would be impossible to cross for little fairies like Bilbo. “I’ve been before.” He said. “The shore is only an hour or so away from here, if I drive. Do you want to go?”

“Can we?” Bilbo asked, eyes going wide. “I’ve never been…”

“Of course we can go.” Thorin chuckled. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise, but we still need to cover up your wings and your ears.”

“That’s fine, that’s fine!” Bilbo cried enthusiastically. “That doesn’t matter at all. When can we go?”

 

They went the very next week when the weather was nice and warm. Thorin packed sandwiches for lunch, and made sure to find Bilbo clothes that he wouldn’t sweat too much in. He ended up putting Bilbo in a short-sleeved, collared shirt with a tight-fitting vest over the top to secure his wings in place. The tail of the shirt just wasn’t long enough to cover Bilbo’s wing tips, so he had Bilbo tie a stylish jacket around his waist, too.

His ears were more problematic. Thorin couldn’t exactly get him to wear a beanie on the beach, so he gave Bilbo a nice beach hat instead, and had him wear it tilted back to cover his ears. Perhaps it wouldn’t shield his eyes from the mid-morning sun, but it did its job well enough.

Bilbo was rather excited during the drive over to the beach. He couldn’t sit still, and asked Thorin as many questions as he could. Thorin thought he would run out eventually, but he never did. When the ocean came into view in all its blue glory, Bilbo’s eyes positively sparkled. 

“There’s so much water!” Bilbo exclaimed the moment he stepped out of the car. “Thorin, Thorin are you looking? It’s wonderful!”

“I’m looking.” He assured Bilbo, amused. He’d never seen Bilbo look so excited, aside from the times he thought Thorin wasn’t watching him demolish a jar of honey. As he absently watched Bilbo step down onto the sand for the first time, he was glad he had chosen to come here today. Just seeing Bilbo smile like he was as he turned back to give Thorin a dazzling look was worth it.

 

“I didn’t know the ocean would be so cold.” Bilbo said as they stood side-by-side with their feet buried beneath gentle waves that rhythmically rolled up the shore. He reached for Thorin’s hand, and smiled softly to himself when Thorin laced their fingers together. “It’s kind of nice.”

Thorin nodded in agreement. It was late afternoon, and only now had Bilbo started to get his fill of the beach experience. He’d weighed down his pockets (and Thorin’s) with sea shells and various pebbles that he wanted to keep as tokens, and although Thorin knew he would never get the sand out of his shorts he didn’t particularly care. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

If it were at all possible, Bilbo’s gentle smile became even warmer. In the warming lights of the sunset, he seemed to truly glow with contentment. “I did.” He said, looking up at Thorin with radiant, amber eyes. “I truly did, Thorin.”

Thorin felt himself flush at Bilbo’s gratified expression. “I… I’m glad.” He said quietly.

Bilbo gently squeezed his fingers, and stepped closer. “Thank you for bringing me here, and for showing me the human world.” He said. “I really appreciate it. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.”

“It’s not a problem.” Thorin murmured. “I enjoyed myself, too.”

Just quietly, Bilbo stood up onto the tips of his toes to press a soft kiss to Thorin’s cheek. It was just a whisper of touch, but Thorin felt it right at his very centre, and it was like the entire world stopped just so he could experience that moment.

He’d never felt so warm inside.


	23. Fess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dis comes to visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fess - _confess; own up._

Thorin never did get around to telling Dis about Bilbo. During their regular phone calls she frequently questioned him about that sort of thing – Thorin really wasn’t sure how she could tell what he was feeling over the phone, because he didn’t think he spoke any differently. 

He started wondering how he could explain to her exactly what Bilbo was after she questioned him a couple of times. He didn’t have any idea of how he would say it, but he wanted to be honest. Even though he liked having Bilbo all to himself, it would be nice to show him off, too. Not to mention Kili and Fili really loved Bilbo’s company, and it would be nice for them to visit a little more often to see Bilbo. Thorin knew Bilbo missed them – he often caught Bilbo staring at the photos Thorin had of his family with curious and somewhat wistful eyes.

Recently, Thorin had been expanding Bilbo’s knowledge of the human world. After their initial visit to the beach, Bilbo had become insatiable when it came to new experiences. Everything was new to him, from the beach to the local park and even to places he had been before, like the grocery store. More than anything, Bilbo just seemed to love exploring and “adventuring”, as he fondly called it. Getting to see all of the human world seemed to give Bilbo a sense of independence that he hadn’t had before, and even if he had to hide his wings and his ears he still enjoyed himself. 

There were other things Bilbo was starting to explore, too. Things that involved Thorin. Although Thorin felt utterly inexperienced when it came to Bilbo, there were other things he knew how to do – like how to take care of a person, and how to be affectionate. Those sort of things seemed a little foreign to Bilbo, but he tried his hardest, and Thorin certainly appreciated his efforts. He never pushed Bilbo when it came to furthering their relationship in that direction, but he always reciprocated Bilbo’s little kisses and shy touches, just to make sure he knew Thorin was definitely interested. 

After a while, a lot of things regarding Bilbo become easier, almost natural. Sharing a bed, for example, was something that was both pleasurable and comforting, even more so the moments in the morning when Thorin woke with Bilbo comfortably curled up in his arms. The fairy seemed to enjoy sleeping so closely to another person, and when Thorin had once asked him about it, he said it was because he’d never had the chance to before.

Perhaps it was fitting, then, that Dis accidentally stumbled across Bilbo while he lounged with Thorin in their bed. 

It had been a lazy morning, that day. Thorin had allowed himself to stay in bed for longer than he usually did, even though he knew there were things he had to work on. Somehow, it had felt fine to put them off for a little it if meant he could rest so comfortably, even for just a few minutes more. Bilbo had seem content to nap for longer, too, and let out little, pleased cooing noises when Thorin made no move to leave like he usually would have.

Thorin hadn’t known Dis would come to visit that day. She had a key to his house, of course, and when Thorin hadn’t replied to her quiet knocks she’d let herself in. Neither Thorin nor Bilbo had woken to her gentle footsteps, and only when she had shaken Thorin away did he finally realise she was in his house.

“Thorin, wake up.”

He groaned quietly, and gave Dis an impassive look. “Dis…? What are you…?”

Dis held up a finger to her lips, and glanced across the bed. When Thorin followed her gaze, he saw that Bilbo was curled up on top of the sheets, contently slumbering away. Even as Thorin and Dis watched him, his wings flickered with little, subconscious twitches. “Come talk with me.” Dis finally murmured.

Thorin crept out of bed as silently as he could. Dis led him into the living room where they both took a seat on Thorin’s couches. “I wasn’t expecting you.” Thorin said quietly.

“I noticed.” Dis said, eyebrows raised. “You said you didn’t have anyone.”

Thorin tensed, and glanced back over at his bedroom door briefly. “I didn’t think you’d believe me even if I told you.” He said. “Which I was going to, eventually, when I figured out how…”

“I see where the boys are getting all of the fairy talk from, now.” Dis sighed. “I’m not mad at you Thorin, so stop looking so nervous. I understand why you didn’t tell me, though I wish you had. How did you even find someone like… that?”

“He wound up in my garden after a storm.” Thorin said. “The kids found him.”

Dis chuckled. “Of course they did.” She said. “What’s his name?”

“Bilbo.”

“And he’s a…?”

“Fairy, yes.”

Dis hummed to herself. “Well, he certainly is something. How long have you known him?”

“A couple of months.” Thorin said. “Since I had the kids last.”

Dis nodded. “I see. Does anyone else know?”

“No.”

“You like him, right?”

Thorin flushed, and gave her a scowl. That seemed to be enough of an answer for her, because her expression softened and a teasing smile came to her lips. “I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Thorin said, “but leave it. I don’t need your teasing bothering me this early in the morning.”

Dis laughed. “Alright, alright. I’ll save it for when you’re more awake, then. Am I going to get to meet your fairy today?”

“I guess so, if you want to stay for a little while.”

“Of course I do.” Dis said. “But first, you should make me some tea. We’ve still got some catching up to do, big brother! I want to know all the details.”

Thorin groaned, but stood anyone. “You’ll be the death of me one day.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately, it seems so.”


	24. Fetching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo always seemed to gain a rather childlike enthusiasm for things when he was in his natural size.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fetching - _attractive._

Dis and Bilbo meeting would probably be one of the weirdest things Thorin had ever experienced. Bilbo, for the most part, had been quite shy around her at first. He hid behind Thorin during introductions, and peered at Dis with wide, curious eyes that peeked up over Thorin’s shoulder.

Thorin had never seen Bilbo so nervous, but it was an oddly humbling experience. While Thorin knew his sister harboured no ill will towards Bilbo, she was hesitant, and that in turn made Bilbo hesitant. When they got to know each other a little better, however, all that nervousness completely faded away. Thorin should have known the two of them would get along remarkably well – they bonded over the one thing they had in common, after all, and that one thing was Thorin.

Though perhaps Dis was ridiculing Thorin more so than talking about him. Bilbo seemed none the wiser, but Dis enjoyed herself immensely at Thorin’s expense. Even with the disgruntled looks Thorin sent her, she only continued to tease him more. He should have expected it, really. Even if Dis was remarkably perceptive, she was also incredibly mischievous, just like her two boys. 

Still, Thorin was glad they met, in the end. Dis seemed to have no issue with leaving the boys around Bilbo, and after promising that she would let Thorin look after them on her next business trip, she left. She’d only stayed for a couple of hours to get to know Bilbo better, but the house felt a lot lighter when she left, and Thorin was happy that Bilbo’s secret had been revealed to someone he loved so much. It was nice to know Bilbo enjoyed Dis’s company, too, because he certainly did. 

“You have another sibling, right?” Bilbo asked curiously as they ate dinner together. “A brother?”

Thorin nodded. “Yes, I have a younger brother, but he lives further away than Dis, and doesn’t get the time to visit much.”

“What’s it like having siblings?”

It was strange to be asked such a question, Thorin thought. He’d had siblings for as long as he could remember, so he didn’t know what it would be like without them. Did that mean he didn’t know what it was like to have them, too? “I suppose it’s nice.” He finally said. “They annoy me endlessly, and they cause me a lot of worry, but it’s good to know they’re around.”

Bilbo laughed quietly. “Sounds wonderful.” He said. “My parents wanted to have more children, but they never got around to it after they had me. My father used to say I was a handful when I was a child, especially when I started learning how to fly.”

Thorin chuckled. “I imagine you were quite an adventurous child.” He said. The image of a little Bilbo fluttering around on his new wings came to Thorin’s mind for a moment, and it was so wholesome that Thorin could hardly believe he’d pictured such a thing. 

“But of course!” Bilbo grinned. “I loved going on adventures, it was my favourite pastime. Now the entire human world is my newest adventure! Isn’t it just marvellous?”

“I suppose it is.” Thorin agreed. “Did you ever experience much outside of the Shire?”

“A little.” Bilbo said. “My mother was adventurous, so we went on walks often. Not many people in the Shire ever leave, though. We often went down to the river so that we could follow it along its banks until the sun set. She loved getting out and exploring, you know.”

“Did your father?”

“Not as much as my mother did, but he put up with it for her.” Bilbo said fondly. “He didn’t want to curb her wild spirit, even though others in the Shire looked down on her for it.”

“She sounds like a lovely woman.”

“She was.” Bilbo smiled to himself. “My father, too.”

Thorin didn’t press the issue of Bilbo’s parents further. He knew that Bilbo’s parents were no longer with him from the tone of the conversation, and he didn’t want any painful memories to surface for Bilbo, so he thought it would be best if he let the conversation be. There were always other things they could talk about, after all. 

Some days, Bilbo spent every waking hour in his fairy form. Thorin didn’t blame him for wanting to be in his natural form after spending so long in a human-sized one, and he liked Bilbo as he was either way. Bilbo always seemed to gain a rather childlike enthusiasm for things when he was in his natural size, like everything had become a new adventure for him to tackle. Perhaps that was the truth. Regardless, it was always amusing to watch Bilbo explore his home when he was fairy-sized. 

The kitchen and Thorin’s studio were always Bilbo’s favourite places of interest. In the kitchen, he was constantly trying to get into the honey jars and exploring all the crooks and crannies in the cupboards that Thorin couldn’t reach. He loved to wander along the windowsill, and mess around with the taps. It wasn’t strange for Thorin to hear them turn on and off at random intervals, accompanied by loud, satisfied chatters. 

The workshop was just as interesting, it seemed. He loved to pilfer all the little gems Thorin had for his jewellery commissions, and he was constantly rearranging all the doll houses and fairy houses Thorin built. Even for more simple projects, Bilbo found a way to make them interesting. And though Thorin couldn’t understand what Bilbo said, he had come to be able to recognise the different tones in Bilbo’s chattering – especially his indignant cries at Thorin’s attempts of interior decoration. 

It left Thorin feeling ridiculously happy to watch Bilbo wander around so freely. Bilbo loved to drag around pencils and make flowers grow in Thorin’s hair when he thought Thorin wasn’t looking. He liked to make nests out of fabric and flutter around from table top to table top so that he could peer at everything Thorin was doing. It was nice to have a companion like Bilbo.  
The tiny little kisses Bilbo frequently pressed to his cheeks were always quite wonderful, too.


	25. Fairy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin thinks back onto the first time he met Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairy - _a small imaginary being of human form that has magical powers._

It became an easy thing to live with Bilbo. It was evident that Thorin liked spending time in his company, but aside from that it was pleasant to have someone else in the house. The silence in his home had all but disappeared, and now there seemed to be a warmth in every room that had previously been absent. It had been a long time since Thorin cared for someone else in the way he cared for Bilbo, and it was both an exciting and nerve-wracking thing at the same time as being lovely. Regardless, it was an experience Thorin certainly enjoyed.

Even though he’d known Bilbo for so long, and felt like he’d known him for even longer, there were still new things for Thorin to discover every day. It didn’t seem like Bilbo could ever become boring, and such a farfetched notion only crossed Thorin’s mind once before it never returned. Instead he focused on learning all of Bilbo’s new quirks – like how he preferred to use small teaspoons for everything he needed a spoon for, and how he preferred baths over showers so he could use all the scented bath soaps, and how he really liked listening to the late-night music stations when there were no ads and only slow, gentle songs played. 

When the boys came back to stay with Thorin during Dis’s next business trip, Bilbo remained in his human-sized form. It had been a nice surprise for them, and although Thorin warmed them to be careful with Bilbo’s wings they were simply too excited to heed his words. Regardless, Thorin had let them be. It was nice to see his beloved nephews so happy, and it set a good tone for the duration of their stay. 

“Uncle Thorin, is Bilbo going to be staying this time?” Kili asked one evening as Thorin tucked him into bed. 

“I think so, Kili.” Thorin answered. He hadn’t discussed it with Bilbo, but he didn’t think Bilbo would leave without saying goodbye, at least. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I want to play with him still.” Kili said with a small pout. “And I don’t want Uncle Thorin to be alone anymore.”

Thorin’s eyes widened as he carefully watched his nephew’s face. “I’m not lonely, Kili.” He said reassuringly. “I have you and your brother, don’t I? You know I love having you here.”

Kili seemed hesitant for a moment before he nodded. “Okay. Goodnight Uncle.”

“Goodnight, Kili.”

Sometimes Thorin wondered what it would have been like to have children of his own, but it had never been a particularly big part of the life he imagined for himself. He didn’t think he’d really lost out on the experience, either, not with the way Dis allowed him to be a part of Kili and Fili’s lives. Although he didn’t always have them, they were a big part of his life, and he enjoyed having them over. 

“Have you always looked after the boys?” Bilbo asked him that night. “They seem very comfortable here.”

Thorin nodded. “Yes. Dis’s husband works with her in our business, so it’s best that I take care of them while they’re away. I’ve had them since they were infants, just about.”

Bilbo smiled fondly. “Sounds lovely.” He said. “Were they good children?”

“Surprisingly, they were.” Thorin chuckled. “They were very quiet babies, the both of them. As soon as they learned to walk and talk, however, it became quite a different story! Who knew those quiet infants would become so mischievous.” He said wistfully. “Though I wouldn’t change them for the world.”

“I wouldn’t, either.” Bilbo grinned. “They’re such confident children! I like spending time with them.”

Thorin smiled to himself. It made him unreasonably happy to hear that Bilbo enjoyed having Fili and Kili around, especially considering they were often at Thorin’s home for quite some time. He would have never thought Bilbo would get along with the children so well, regardless of the fact that he was a fairy and the children were enamoured with his wings. It was comforting to know that all the people living in his house were comfortable with each other.

Unsurprisingly, one of Thorin’s favourite pastime soon became watching Kili and Fili fawning over Bilbo. They loved to play with Bilbo, who had the ability to oblige them in all the games Thorin didn’t have time to. Hide-and-seek became incredibly more amusing when Bilbo was only ten centimetres tall, after all. It wasn’t uncommon for Thorin to have Bilbo hiding on his desk or in his studio while the kids searched for him, though his use of Thorin’s space quickly became the first place Kili and Fili searched. 

There were other things Thorin came to enjoy, too. Mealtimes and movie nights and weekends out to the beach or to the park became memories that burned into his mind. He was sure he would never forget any of it. He made sure to take dozens of photos, too, and not only because he wanted the memories, but because Bilbo did as well. Bilbo was still endlessly fascinated when it came to human inventions, and he quite liked cameras. It took him a while to get the hang of taking decent photos, but once he did he never seemed to stop. 

Thorin didn’t mind. He found himself settling into his new life with Bilbo remarkably easy, and he certainly welcomed the comfort Bilbo gave him. He was innocently intimate, with dainty kisses and bashful handholding and nights spent curled up under the same sheets. Thorin hadn’t really ever known what he wanted out of a relationship, but he felt like he had all that he’d need, now. He really was lucky to have come across someone like Bilbo. 

Thinking back on it, he couldn’t really comprehend just how fortunate it was that Bilbo had wound up in his yard that first morning. He’d seemed so delicate and frightened back then, and was so different now Thorin could hardly believe they were the same person. He really treasured the moments he was able to hold Bilbo in his hands because he was small enough to fit there, and he was always amazed at the things Bilbo could do. 

Really, it was Bilbo himself that was amazing, and every time Thorin told him that, he’d turn red and kiss Thorin and tell him that he was amazing, too. 

How could Thorin want anything more when he already had everything he needed?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me for so long :') I really appreciate all your support! ❤


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